The Protégé
by a-damson-in-distress
Summary: In search of a new cellist for his prestigious orchestra, an infamously feared maestro stumbles upon a young rising star. Modern day AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Note:** Sooo yeah, I dunno, I did a thing? And now the thing has been done and wants to be shared. This idea has been floating through my head for the last couple of days and I just absolutely had to write it down. I've never been part of an orchestra, so please just ignore the fuck out of any irregularities and mistakes. Hope you like it, let me know what you think.

Also, please watch 2CELLOS - Thunderstruck on Youtube (preferrably the official video version where they're dressed in baroque clothing) before reading the chapter, as this is the piece Sakura will be playing. I feel like you really need to hear/watch it beforehand to be able to fully dive into the musical experience I'm so desperately trying (but probably failing) to describe. Also sharing it simply because it's fucking awesome. Enjoy.

* * *

"Why is she getting a solo again? This isn't part of our usual programme."

Someone next to her made a shushing sound.

"You know why," whispered her seatmate while leaning down to her face. "She's the star of the show."

"She's been with us for more than a year now, she never got a solo before. What's so different tonight?"

Another shush. This time accompanied by an angry glare and a finger pressed tightly against a pair of lips. She shot the shusher a fake smile, gave a tiny, barely audible grunt of contempt and leaned back in her seat. As she watched the person in question approach the seat at the centre of the stage amidst excited applause, she had to supress the urge to roll her eyes, fully aware of the cameras surrounding them.

A tap on her shoulder made her turn her head slightly to the left, as she felt another voice whisper in her ear, "Rumour has it the maestro gave her the solo tonight, because somebody asked her to. Supposedly another conductor who's trying to poach her."

Her eyes went wide as she turned her gaze from the girl getting ready underneath the spotlight at the centre of the stage to the person sitting behind her. "Why the hell would she even agree to that? If I were a conductor and someone was trying to poach my best musician, I'd lock her up instead of presenting her on a silver platter. Besides, our maestro doesn't even like any of the other conductors, she thinks she's better than all of them. I can't think of a single one she would do this for."

Another shush. Another glare. Another finger.

They all momentarily turned their gazes to the front and listened to the last bit of their maestro's short speech introducing the solo and its musicians. There was that whisper behind her again.

"Well, rumour has it that _he_ recently kicked out a cellist and is looking for a replacement."

Her jaw dropped. It couldn't be. With wide eyes, she frantically searched the large concert hall as if she could spot the infamous conductor somewhere in the sea of guests enveloped in darkness. She suddenly felt her nervousness grow into exorbitant heights while at the same time feeling her confidence shrink to the size of a peanut. _He_ had that effect on musicians.

Her heart was now beating to the beat of the Radetzky March, and she was afraid it was so loud her seatmate would hear it when he leaned towards her again. "Don't be jealous. I hope he does take her on. At some point, she won't be able to meet his crazy high expectations and that'll be the end of Miss Goody Two-Shoes. He'll eat her alive."

* * *

Sakura watched her fellow cellist approach the two seats in the middle from the stage entrance on the other end. As she let the applause of the audience wash over her, her right hand went to the left sleeve of her white blouse to roll it up to her elbows and do the same on the other side. Normally, such an unkempt look was an absolute no-go in the world of classical music. Everything had to be ironed, styled, and made-up to perfection – they were, after all, Tsunade Senju's orchestra. However, for this particular performance, both cellists were allowed the singular exception of discarding their suit jackets and rolling up their sleeves.

Grabbing a hold of her beloved instrument and settling it between her spread legs, she listened to her maestro explain her two cellists' dishevelled look and assuring the audience that they will soon realise why the musicians need a bit more freedom of movement from their restricting concert outfits. Their maestro went on to explain that even though this was supposed to be a solo for the principal cellist – Sakura – the piece nevertheless required another to accompany her.

Setting down the microphone on her music stand, Tsunade gave her two cellists a silent nod and retreated to the back of the stage, where the rest of the orchestra was sitting underneath dimmed stage lights.

Sakura exchanged a knowing look with her cellist partner and took a deep breath. Lowering her head and silently setting her bow onto the four strings of her Knilling Maestro cello, she positioned her fingers onto the neck and started to play.

Perfectly in tune with one another, the two musicians let a harmonic, baroque melody engulf the audience while their fingers deftly wandered across their cello's neck and their bows carefully drew over the strings with years of hard practice and musical passion.

The melody started out slow, gingerly eliciting the sounds from their instruments. Sakura's experienced fingertips caressed the neck while her bow glid across the strings like a gentle breeze over a valley. While the first few bars of their piece were very classical, careful, and conservative, the melody slowly picked up its pace. The gentle breeze turned into a gust of wind as Sakura's hands no longer caressed her instrument but gripped it with a starved passion. The two cellists seemed to be goading each other with their frenzied movements and the fast-paced melody, the gust of wind growing ever stronger, the originally careful tune of their piece long since replaced with hectic _staccati_ and exhilarating chords.

And then, Sakura locked eyes with her partner, and they unleashed a hurricane.

At this point, she could no longer keep still. Her feet were tapping on the floor, her entire body writhing in her seat, longing to be part of the melody, and her head was bobbing up and down to the beat of their rendition of AC/DC's Thunderstruck. What the two musicians were doing to their cellos now was bordering on instrumental torture, mercilessly yanking on the strings and dragging their bows across them with such a force half of the horse hair had already snapped.

As they neared the finale of their piece, Sakura could feel her lips spreading into an excited smile and with one last forceful, passionate draw of her bow, she silenced the hurricane.

The principal cellist took a few seconds to regain her breath and only when she heard the thunderous applause of the audience in front of her did Sakura raise her head to peek at them through the strands of her hair that were ripped out of her sleek chignon through the force of her headbanging and were now hanging in her face. Quickly pulling the loose strands behind her ear, she stood up, leaned her cello against her chair, and joined her partner at the front of the stage. With her haggard bow still in her right hand, she offered her left to her fellow cellist and together, they raised their arms, smiling broadly, basked in the admiration of their audience for a few seconds before bowing deeply.

* * *

"Are you going to tell her today?"

Tsunade took another sip of her coffee while her eyes scanned over the sheet music for the symphony they were going to rehearse today.

"Of course not."

She could feel her publicist's expectant gaze boring into her back without turning her gaze away from her desk. Shizune sighed and asked again, "Are you at least going to tell her about the Sapporo concert?"

"No, I'm not and you know why. So stop bugging me."

"Because he asked you to? Seriously, when have you ever done something someone asked of you, especially _him_."

"I didn't do it for him, I did it for her. He was absolutely right to ask it of me. He needed to see her perform without the pressure, without knowing what's expecting her, without any doubts or hopes obscuring and tarnishing her performance."

Shizune sucked in her bottom lip and let her worried gaze fall on the newspaper next to her. They were once again sitting in Tsunade's spacious office inside the Kyoto Concert Hall, discussing the future of their orchestra's best musician. While the maestro seemed to have her mind made up, Shizune still had doubts.

She picked up the paper and let her eyes rest on the picture that took up half a page in the Arts & Culture section. It was a photograph of their principal cellist, Sakura Haruno, taken during their recent concert in Sapporo, right after her solo performance of AC/DC's Thunderstruck. The young woman is seen with both arms raised, one holding the hand of her fellow cellist and the other her half-wrecked bow, her dishevelled hair framing her beautiful young face, grinning like a maniac. Next to it, there was a review of their concert and praise upon praise for her performance and above it, written in bold letters: _IMPERATRIX FURIOSA – SAKURA HARUNO BOLDLY TAKES JAPAN'S CLASSICAL MUSIC SCENE TO THE NEXT LEVEL._

"I'm not sure what this kind of medial coverage will do to someone so young. So far, I was able to shield her from prying eyes and the many interview requests, but if she signs on with _him_, that will unleash publicity hell upon her. I mean, she's only 20 and she's only been playing professionally for three years now and the public already has an unhealthy level of interest in her. She already has a nickname, for heaven's sake. Do you know what they are calling her?"

Tsunade grinned from behind her coffee cup. "The Furious Empress."

Shizune sighed, strode over to her best friend's desk, and let the newspaper fall right on top of her sheet music. With a perfectly manicured finger, she pointed to the picture of Sakura and said, "This is what a Tsunade Senju-level of fame looks like for her. Imagine what it will be like with _him_. They will eat her alive. And I doubt that he has a publicist who looks after the young, inexperienced, and vulnerable musicians like I do, much less that he himself even cares. Do you really want to do this to her?"

The blonde conductor sighed and set down her coffee cup. "You make it sound like I'm sacrificing her to some evil volcano god."

Throwing one last glance at the picture of her best musician, she turned around in her chair and fixed her best friend with a determined stare. "I have nothing to teach her anymore. She surpassed my expectations faster than I even expected her to meet them. She needs new challenges, and as much as I hate to admit it, he can offer her that. He's got the bigger gigs, the bigger stages, the bigger audiences, and the more challenging pieces, though I would rather eat a shoe or set myself on fire before ever admitting to that in front of him."

Tsunade got out of her chair and stalked over to her beloved, overpriced coffee machine before turning around and pointing her index finger at her best friend, glowering, "Now I will have that stuck-up Armani potato sit in the control room, unannounced and unnoticed, listening to our rehearsal as he requested and you will tell no one of this, especially not Sakura."

* * *

The pink-haired cellist was busy packing up her sheet music and her cello when she suddenly heard the booming voice of her maestro calling out to her. "Ms Haruno, would you mind seeing me in my office in five minutes?"

It was a rhetorical question of course, Tsunade didn't give her time to answer as she was already stalking off the stage. The pink-haired cellist followed the retreating figure of her conductor with a confused gaze, before being distracted by a hand on her shoulder. Turning her head, she was met with the face of another fellow cellist, Amy.

"Great rehearsal today, Sakura. I loved how you played the _decrescendo _in the end. I was just wondering if you could show me real quick how you do that. It just doesn't sound quite right with me."

"Sure, no problem. But I'll have to be quick. Maestro wants to see me in five minutes."

Sakura gave it her best to concentrate on Amy's playing and give her tips, but in her mind, she was already in Tsunade's office, contemplating what she might have to discuss with her. Their maestro rarely had her musicians come into her office for private talks, she usually said everything she needed to say during rehearsals in front of the entire orchestra.

Biting her bottom lip, she remembered the newspaper article she read this morning. Was it her appearance after her solo? Maybe she did look more dishevelled and ungraceful than she thought. It couldn't have been her performance; Tsunade herself said how pleased she was and the rave reviews spoke for themselves. So what was it, then?

After finishing with Amy and packing up her things, Sakura made her way to her maestro's office with a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. She could hear hushed voices from afar, one undeniably male, so she remained rooted to the spot, waiting for her conductor's previous appointment to leave. When she realised the man made no move to vacate Tsunade's office, she slowly approached it, only to see the doors were opened halfway.

Casting a careful glance into the part of the office that was visible to her, she only saw her conductor and decided to make herself known with a knock on the door.

"Ms Haruno, come in."

Her maestro hurriedly ushered her into her office and it was then Sakura saw the annoyed expression on her face. Dear God, she really was in trouble.

"Ms Haruno, there's somebody I would like you to meet," Tsunade said slowly, her mouth set in a grim line.

Before Sakura could ask what was going on, she could hear a deep baritone behind her. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms Haruno."

Sakura turned around and gasped. Her eyes widened in disbelief and glued themselves reverently to the man in front of her.

"I'm Madara Uchiha."


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **Some of my favourite composers are mentioned in this chapter, if you're into modern classics, you should definitely check them out. Hint: Maybe take a closer look at Bergersen's pieces, he may or may not pop up again sometime down the road, as a pretty central plot device, if I might add. Also, I am a MASSIVE Lord of the Rings fan, and I would literally kiss the ground Howard Shore's feet walk upon, so naturally, I had to mention him as well. _The White Tree_ is a piece he composed for Return of the King, and you can hear it while Pippin was trying to light the beacons of Minas Tirith. If you want to check it out, here's a link: watch?v=zMGRAvn_4S8 . The really good part begins at 1:25. Enjoy.

* * *

Madara usually closed his eyes during auditions – not that this was one, at least not one _she_ was aware of. He felt he could concentrate on the music better this way, listening to every subtle sound and picking up even the tiniest tremble. But he couldn't help but watch her perform. The way she swayed with the music, as if almost allowing herself to be lifted out of her seat by the melody and carried away into that fantastic world she seemed to conjure up in her head whenever she played. The way her brows furrowed in thorough concentration, intense agony, and passionate ecstasy. The way her head would sway and bob and jerk, freeing tendrils of her striking pink hair from the confines of her strict, tight, and predictable chignon.

That's what this entire concert was so far – predictable. Classic. Safe. Tsunade Senju was one of Japan's most renowned conductors and her tour so far has been met with nothing but praise, and even though Madara had to admit that there were a handful of her orchestra's musicians who seemed to possess something akin to talent, or at least satisfactory control over their instrument, he was bored. The only person worthy of his attention was her principal cellist.

Sakura Haruno was a child prodigy. Madara had been following her unprecedented, albeit short career for a while now, even toying with the idea of signing her on. Yet his orchestra had been in no need of a new cellist for a very long time, primarily because his principal cellist was a damn good musician himself, and Madara knew kicking him out simply because he wanted Ms Haruno, without him ever having done anything wrong, would not go well with his Music Director. Until he found out the tutoring sessions of Mr Nara had nothing to do with him improving his fellow cellist's _sforzando_, but everything to do with him sticking his hands down her pants.

Which resulted in a vacant cellist spot in his orchestra and Madara flying to Sapporo to see Sakura play. Despite her outstanding performance, Tsunade's safe and predictable pieces were smothering her true talent, and – having already suspected a boring programme – he had asked the conductor in advance to give her principal cellist an experimental solo piece.

Madara expected many things, one of Zoltán Kodály's works perhaps, or a Gaspar Cassadó, maybe something with a hint of Jazz. What he absolutely did not expect, however, was Sakura Haruno plucking, bowing, and playing her instrument, the audience, and herself into a state of musical ecstasy with a cello rendition of AC/DC's Thunderstruck.

He had watched countless breathtaking performances in his nearly twenty-year long career, conducted even more – but Madara honestly had to admit he had never once gotten goose bumps before. And yet four minutes of this delicate pink-haired fairy nearly massacring her cello was more than enough to regret every single second of not having her in his orchestra.

So he did the only logical thing and stole her.

* * *

"You know, my Music Director considers this stealing."

Madara raised an eyebrow. Of course, he does.

"So do many others here at Kyoto Concert Hall. They all think you're stealing from us."

He couldn't supress a smirk. Of course, they do, because of course he was. Though he would never call it stealing. Strategic relocation sounded much more like his modus operandi.

His widening grin only made Tsunade's nostrils flare even more.

"You should consider yourself lucky that I have nothing left to teach her, otherwise I would fight you tooth and nail for that young lady."

Madara lowered his amused gaze to the index finger threateningly pointed at his chest, before meeting Tsunade's eyes. "My my, I think I should consider myself lucky to have witnessed the moment Tsunade Senju admits that I'm a better conductor than her."

"That is not what I said, you daft bastard!"

If looks could kill, Madara would have probably died of spontaneous combustion right this second.

The raven-haired conductor resisted the urge to roll his eyes and levelled Tsunade with a deadpan expression. "There's no need to go over this again. We've discussed all the details and necessary arrangements. She will be part of my orchestra, and there is nothing you can do about it. You said it yourself, she's learned everything she can from you and now it's time to move on to bigger and better things. I will be good for her."

He watched her narrow her eyes in suspicion. Tsunade took another step to bridge the distance between them until she was so close her chest was almost touching his torso. Madara forced himself to supress the groan of annoyance threatening to escape his throat. He had always hated, and at the same time respected Tsunade's in-your-face attitude.

The blonde conductor scrutinised him for another moment, before hissing, "But will you also be good _to_ her?"

A careful knock on the door suddenly dissipated the tension in Tsunade's office, and she turned towards the sound. She grabbed the handle of the door and opened it wider to allow the person in.

"Ms Haruno, come in."

Madara watched the object of his musical desire hesitantly step into the office before Tsunade grabbed a hold of her shoulders and practically forced her inside. She leaned her cello case against the wall and nervously played with her hair. She seemed so skittish that, for a moment, Madara feared Tsunade had already told her that he was here today because of her.

"Ms Haruno, there's somebody I would like you to meet."

The raven-haired conductor could no longer keep still and raised his voice, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms Haruno."

And then she turned around and fixed her wide doe-like eyes on him and a tiny, barely audible gasp escaped her lips. Her jade orbs widened in admiration, and Madara knew in that instant he had her.

"I'm Madara Uchiha."

Hook, line, and sinker.

He allowed himself another moment to bask in her reverence so clearly mirrored in her expressive eyes, before offering his hand.

She blinked a few times, as if to shake herself out of her trance and her gaze jumped back and forth between his hand and his face. When she finally seemed to realise who was standing in front of her, she gingerly shook his hand and whispered, "It's such an honour to meet you, Mr Uchiha. I'm – "

"Sakura Haruno, I know," he interrupted while enjoying the feel of her warm tiny hand in his.

She abruptly let go and looked at him in wonder before stammering, "You – wait, how do… You know me?"

How adorable, Madara thought. She was a world-famous musician herself, rubbing elbows with international A-listers of the classical music scene, and yet she couldn't wrap her pretty little head around the thought of a fellow countryman knowing her name.

He was just about to open his mouth to speak when he heard Tsunade sigh behind her.

"There's no point in beating about the bush, Ms Haruno, so I'm just going to come out and say it. Mr Uchiha is looking for a new principal cellist in his orchestra and he has approached me with the idea of signing you on."

Sakura's gaze swept back and forth between her current maestro and the raven-haired man next to her, her lips opening and forming a bewildered little _o_. Both conductors looked at her expectantly and gave her a few seconds to process the information. After a few moments of silence, where Sakura vacantly looked at her cello case, deep in thought and seemingly boring holes into it, Madara fixed his questioning gaze on Tsunade. Sensing her hesitance, he took it upon himself to break the silence.

"Ms Haruno, this is the point where you say something," he gently coaxed her.

Her head whipped to the right, surprised eyes meeting his expectant ones, like a deer caught in the headlights. Sakura closed her mouth, licked her lips, and shook her head as if to force herself to concentrate. Tugging a strand of hair behind her ear, she cleared her throat before turning to Tsunade and raising her voice.

"Is that why you gave me the solo in Sapporo? You've never given me one before, I thought it was strange." Sakura's head slowly turned to face him again, and she shyly peeked up at him through her eyelashes. "It was an audition. You were there, weren't you?" she murmured.

Madara immediately recognised the look on her face. She wanted to know how she did.

"I wouldn't call it an audition, really. Not when I decided to sign you on weeks ago. It was more of a formality." The way her blush spread across her cheeks and her lips spread into a tiny, proud grin and her eyes sparkled with gratification told him that was exactly what she wanted to hear.

Their moment was interrupted when Madara heard Tsunade pointedly clear her throat.

"I know this might be sudden for you, Ms Haruno. But rest assured, you have a month to think about the offer. After all, we still have two concerts to play in the upcoming weeks and by the end of March, we will be done with our tour, which will also be the same time your contract with our orchestra will run out. If, by then, you choose to extend your contract with us, you'll stay here, no questions asked." Tsunade fixed her principal cellist with a determined gaze, no doubt silently imploring her to remain in Kyoto, Madara mused. She then let her annoyed eyes rest on him, staring daggers in his direction while hissing, "Should you chose to accept Mr Uchiha's offer instead, we will do everything in our power to help you transition to Tokyo as smoothly as possible."

The two conductors waged a silent war with their challenging and determined gazes, each trying to stare down the other, when they were suddenly interrupted by Sakura's hesitant whisper.

"I don't know what to say."

Madara's eyes landed on the young cellist in front of him and his expression immediately softened when he found her nervously chewing on her bottom lip, brows deeply furrowed in confusion. Her uncertain gaze swept back and forth between the two conductors as she spoke, "This such a huge offer, and thank you, by the way, Mr Uchiha, really. This is just… You have – I can't even begin to describe how much this means to me. But at the same time," her eyes landed on Tsunade, "my roots are in Kyoto, this is where I started my career and learned so much, and I really feel tied to this place, as well." Sakura lowered her gaze and started pulling on the ends of her west, before letting out a long sigh. "This is a really life-changing opportunity for me. So I hope neither of you expected an immediate answer. I think I'm really going to need that month to think things through, if you don't mind."

Both conductors let their shoulders slump, releasing some of the tension they were feeling waiting for the cellist's reaction. They both exchanged a knowing look before Tsunade stepped closer to the pinkette and gave her shoulders are reassuring squeeze. "Of course, Ms Haruno. Neither of us want to pressure you with this, so take your time. We both want you to be absolutely certain with this decision and we both want you to feel comfortable in whatever orchestra you choose."

Sakura gave her current maestro a thankful smile. Tsunade released her shoulders and stepped in front of her, crossing her arms in front of her chest and pointed out, "Just keep in mind that I still expect you to bring your A-game for the last two concerts, so don't allow your daydreaming about Mr Uchiha's offer to tarnish your performance." Another blush tainted Sakura's cheeks. "Of course, Maestro."

"I'll send a copy of your contract to Mrs Senju, and she'll forward it to you. You can take your time to read through it and get a feel for the things that I will require from you, rehearsal schedules, planned tour dates, a list of my rules, that sort of thing. I'm sure it's not much different to the contract you signed with Kyoto Concert Hall, but I am known to be somewhat stricter than other conductors, so I want you to know exactly what you should expect before you make your decision." Madara stared into her jade green eyes and expected to see uncertainty, maybe even a touch of apprehension. But he was again met with awe and reverence, as if she couldn't believe he deemed her worthy enough to even cast a glance in her general direction. His entire orchestra and virtually every musician he had ever met stared at him the same way, so Madara was long since used to the awe-inspired looks and couldn't care less about them.

But something about the way this young cellist peeked up at him, as if he were something out of every musician's dream, a god among conductors, and the walking talking embodiment of musical perfection all wrapped in one with a ribbon on it gave Madara a massive, albeit unnecessary, ego boost. He realised then that Ms Haruno was the only person whose obvious adoration did not annoy him. He found himself enjoying it. Which was why the need to have her grew even stronger.

The raven-haired maestro swallowed the lump of unexpected excitement in his throat and gave Sakura a subtle, encouraging smile. "Give it your best for the last two concerts. And I promise I won't be secretly attending anymore, so you don't have to be nervous or anything. Take your time to think about everything, and once you've made up your mind, Mrs Senju will give you my email address and you can let me know directly. But you must be absolutely certain about this. I tend to be very possessive of my musicians, and I would have a hard time letting you go," he drawled vaguely.

Madara didn't think it was possible, but her blush deepened even more. Before allowing himself to keep teasing the cellist and to fall further down the rabbit hole, he forced himself to end the conversation and extend his hand, which she hesitantly took.

"Ms Haruno," he murmured, his gaze lowering to her lips for the briefest moment before meeting her wide eyes again. He gave her one last long tempting look before letting go of her hand, nodding goodbye to Tsunade, and sauntering out of the office.

* * *

Sakura was on edge. They were currently in Osaka for the last concert of their tour, and even though Mr Uchiha promised not to attend and she believed him, she still felt incredibly nervous. Not so much because of the performance per se, she knew how well-prepared they all were and that the concert was going to be a success. She was nervous, because the one-month waiting time was almost over, and both Mr Uchiha and her maestro were going to expect an answer soon.

While the two violas she shared a hotel room with were busy in the bathroom putting on their makeup, Sakura was lying on her bed with her laptop in front of her, staring at the contract she got from her conductor for what felt like the millionth time.

Mr Uchiha had been right, it wasn't all that different to her current contract. Though the rehearsal schedules were a bit more tightly packed than she was used to and the planned upcoming tour would take them to farther away places, her employment with the Tokyo New National Theatre essentially included the same responsibilities and requirements as her current work for Kyoto Concert Hall.

One aspect of Mr Uchiha's offer that was incredibly appealing to her was the repertoire. The pieces he performed with his orchestra were completely different to what she had been playing so far under Maestro Senju's lead. Though his programme did include the most important classical composers and his orchestra did occasionally play some of the most well-known and most popular pieces, he was more famous for his penchant for conducting modern classics. She had almost spat out her tea when she first read the names Brian Tyler, Thomas Bergersen, and Howard Shore. The thought of being on the same stage as Madara Uchiha and performing Howard Shore's _The White Tree_ made her insides tingle with excitement.

And the repertoire was almost enough to maker her agree. Were it not for his incredibly precise and incredibly strict list of incredibly precise and incredibly strict rules. While Sakura was used to high expectations and rigorous leadership form her time with Maestro Senju's orchestra, nothing came even remotely close to Mr Uchiha's demands.

_As stated under section 1. Rights Granted and Territory and section 3. Delivery, the Musician is obliged to abide by the following set of rules set out below. _

_The Musician:_

_1\. Acknowledges his/her role and responsibility as a person of public interest and shall henceforth be mindful of his/her public image and the way it reflects on the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra. A respectable demeanour is expected at all times and measures shall be taken to avoid embodying unwanted characteristics, including but not limited to:_

_-Tardiness_

_-Discourteousness_

_-Vulgarity_

_-Promiscuity_

_-Intoxication_

_-Arrogance_

_2\. Agrees to take meticulous care of his/her appearance, especially during concerts and other public engagements when representing the orchestra. The Musician shall wear whatever concert outfit the Conductor deems appropriate during concerts as well as appropriate formal clothing for other public appearances in accordance with either the Conductor or the orchestra's publicist. In private, the Musician is free to dress however he/she chooses, with the following restrictions and requirements:_

_-No cleavage_

_-No skirts and dresses shorter than three (3) centimetres above the knee_

_-No shorts shorter than five (5) centimetres above the knee_

_-No torn clothing, pants or otherwise_

_-No visible underwear and/or bras_

_-No transparent clothing_

_-No clothing with provocative and/or controversial statements, logos, or pictures_

_-No exaggerated make-up, including but not limited to bright lipstick, bright eyeshadow, and bright blush_

_-No facial piercings_

_-No greasy and/or unkempt hair_

_3\. Shall limit displays of affection when out in public with his/her significant other and keep them to a respectable minimum. Short kisses and pecks on the cheek as well as short hugs and holding hands are within the scope of acceptability. Prolonged physical contact as well inappropriate and/or intimate touching and gestures are not allowed._

_4\. Retains the right to keep his/her own social media profiles active if desired but transfers the management of said profiles to the orchestra's publicist. The Musician shall refrain from posting any content online without the explicit approval of the publicist._

_5\. Shall refrain from pursuing any sort of intimate relationship, sexual or otherwise, with any active member of the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra, including but not limited to the musicians, the tutors, the PR team, and the Conductor._

And that was only the first page. The list went on for another two pages, full of uncompromising rules dedicated to upholding the good name of the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra while at the same time restricting its musicians freedom in many aspects. Sakura knew that especially in Japan's classical music scene, image, reputation, and appearance were the _non plus ultra_, probably even more important than for other orchestras from different countries. And she was even used to a certain level of stuck-up and pernickety snootiness. Yet, Mr Uchiha's supercilious demands blew all of that out of the water. Sakura wasn't sure if she was ready to agree to some contract that would stipulate what sort of skirt she was allowed to wear (not that she wore promiscuous clothing, but this was a matter of principle) or for some publicist to tell her what she was and wasn't allowed to say on the internet.

But every time she thought about whether or not she would be able to tolerate these restrictions, her mind went back to her first meeting with Mr Uchiha and the way he looked at her so intently, and all her inhibitions flew right out of the window. He admitted that he had decided to sign her on weeks before that, he said Sakura didn't even need an audition. When the conductor had praised her and subtly told her how well she performed in Sapporo, the young cellist felt a rush of euphoria surge through her body the force of which she had never felt before when Maestro Senju would compliment her on her performance.

After weeks of poring over the contract and weighing the pros and cons of submitting herself to Mr Uchiha's strict rules, it seemed to Sakura that in the end, her excitement over the possibility of working under the ingenious conductor always outweighed any inhibitions or hesitance.

Hearing a loud noise from the bathroom, Sakura was torn from her thoughts and lifted her gaze from her laptop to the two violas emerging from behind the door. "Sakura, come on, we're supposed to be at the concert hall in half an hour. You need to get ready."

She gave the contract one last thoughtful look before closing her laptop and climbing down from her bed. Stepping in front of the bathroom mirror, the cellist gave her appearance a scrutinising look, before grabbing her make-up pouch. This was the last concert of Tsunade Senju's tour, and the conductor always liked to go out with a bang. So Sakura was going to look extra made-up tonight.

The girls grabbed their cases and left for the concert hall.

When Sakura entered the stage amidst roaring applause, she could feel the familiar rush of excitement run through her veins. The cellist took a seat, prepared herself, and played her heart out.

* * *

After Madara returned to his office from his meeting with his Music Director to discuss details for his orchestra's upcoming tour, he wanted nothing more than to pour himself two fingers of his favourite Scotch, lay a bag of frozen peas on his neck, and proceed to throw the damn bastard of a Director out of his window. He did the first two but refrained from doing the latter. The supercilious oaf was the one signing his paycheck, after all. His Music Director was giving him hell on the best of days, but ever since they were short one principal cellist, Madara swore his ability to annoy him grew to exorbitant heights.

One glance at his watch had the conductor groan in defeat. 1:14 am. Even though he still had a mountain of work to do, he decided he wasn't going to stay in his office any longer, not for all the tea in China.

Just as he was about to grab his coat, his laptop pinged with the notification of a new email.

"What the everloving fuck now?" he growled, stalking back to his desk and staring daggers at the too-bright screen.

His eyes widened a fraction when he read the name of the sender. Throwing his coat over his chair, the raven-haired conductor took a seat and opened the email.

_Dear Mr Uchiha,_

_I would like to once again express my sincerest gratitude to you for considering me for the position of principal cellist in your orchestra. Again, I cannot put into words what an honour your offer is and how deeply I appreciate it. Therefore, after careful consideration, I have decided to accept your offer of joining the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra. _

_I look forward to working under you._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Sakura Haruno_

_PS: What do I do next?_

All the tension and anger suddenly dissipated from Madara's body, and he could even feel his lips spread into a victorious grin. Sighing contentedly, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands behind his head. As he skimmed through Ms Haruno's email again, he couldn't help but chuckle at her _post scriptum_. For some inexplicable reason, Madara found himself enjoying the way she was already looking to him for guidance, asking him what to do.

He was going to have way too much fun with her, the maestro thought with a wicked grin dangling from his lips.

Cracking his knuckles, Madara leaned forward again and started typing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note:** I pray to Baby Jesus that none of you were ever in an orchestra, because I have no idea if what Madara says towards the end sounds even remotely like conductor-talk. I do still know what a bunch of the terms mean form my time as a pianist, but again, I was never in an orchestra and I have no idea if a conductor would use them this way. Also, I kind of sort of perpetuated myself in this chapter, or at least my office number lol. 3.201 is the number of my own office at university and the way Madara describes it ("all the rooms are labelled" etc) is a literal word-for-word copy of how I describe the way to my office when I've got people coming in for an appointment.

And last but not least, here are the links to the pieces mentioned in the chapter: Brian Tyler's _Sleight of Hand_: watch?v=cbkno3IvTOc and Ludovico Einaudi's _Taranta Project_: watch?v=RpY4G5HJrko . _Introductio ad Regnum Tarantulae, Choros_, and _Taranta _are my personal favourites of Einaudi's album, but I posted a link to the entire album, because it is .ZINGGGG. If you only want to check out the three songs mentioned, you should search for the songs separately though instead of listening to the album version I posted above, because some of the recordings on the album are live versions and the studio recordings simply sound better.

I'm suuuuuuuuuuuuuper excited to hear your opinion on this chapter as well as the music. None of my friends or family like the sort of music that I incorporate in this story, so I'm incredibly excited to share these pieces with you and anyway asoiwjefoijsdf so yeah, bye.

* * *

Sakura was standing in front of the mirror in her hotel room scrutinising her seventh outfit. She was supposed to be at Mr Uchiha's office at the New National Theatre in two hours, and she had already spent the last 45 minutes deciding what to wear. She couldn't for the life of her come up with a decent look, since the majority of her wardrobe was very girly, all bright colours, soft lace, and flower prints. Given her fashion sense – or lack thereof, Sakura never thought that she would ever regret not owning a lot of stylish and sleek pieces. In the past, she never felt the need to buy formal and impressionable clothing, since the orchestra provided that for her whenever they were required to dress a certain way for public appearances. But now, Sakura would kill for a nice pant suit, or at least a blouse that didn't have _this person is clearly colour blind _written all over it.

Groaning in frustration, the young cellist slipped out of her pastel pink dress and turned to the myriad of clothes strewn across her bed. Her gaze landed on a white shirt her friends had gifted her when she was sixteen years old, right after winning the first Grand Prize at the Rostropovitch Cello Competition. The shirt showed a picture of her instrument in the middle with the words _Cello: Everyone Else Is Accompaniment_ below it. Sakura smiled at the memory. She loved that shirt, and she loved all of her other clothes as well. She felt most comfortable in dresses and skirts and pretty little tops with unicorns and ice cream cones and flowers on them.

But she couldn't turn up to a meeting with one of the world's greatest conductors looking like she burped sunshine and farted rainbows.

As she went through her pieces of clothing looking for something more mature or at least subtler, Sakura thought back to the email Mr Uchiha had sent her two weeks ago. He always seemed so poised and mature and suave, even in his correspondence. In the maestro's presence – physical or digital – Sakura always felt like a naïve little schoolgirl asking her strict and intimidating headmaster for directions to the cafeteria. Thinking back to what she had written, she felt incredibly stupid for asking him what to do next. But then his reply came through, and Sakura couldn't have been happier.

_Dear Ms Haruno,_

_at the risk of sounding smug, I have to say you made the right decision. But then again, I expected nothing less from you. As for what happens next – there's no need to worry, I will take of everything for you. Allow me to lead the way. I am your maestro now, after all._

_Sincerely,_

_Madara Uchiha_

Sakura got his reply at 1:20 in the morning and naturally, she was so over the moon she didn't get a wink of sleep that night. Luckily, the following days went by in a blur. She had to sign lots of paperwork for Kyoto Concert Hall, find a new tenant for her flat, answer a bunch of emails from a bunch of strangers from the New National Theatre, go to a total of four farewell-parties organised by her former orchestra's musicians, and finally say goodbye to her beloved Maestro Senju.

In the meantime, Mr Uchiha had booked her a flight to Tokyo and a hotel room in which she was free to stay for a few weeks while looking for a place to live in the capital city.

Now, two weeks later, Sakura was about to sign the contract that would change her life.

But first, she needed to change her outfit.

* * *

Madara saw her walk up the grand staircase, eyes wide with wonder, soaking up the modern and sleek architecture of the New National Theatre. The architect had worked with glass a lot and had installed windows and glass walls wherever he could, so the entire building was bathed in a natural light. Everything was understated and subtle, yet tasteful and aesthetic at the same time – all pastel colours and typical Japanese minimalism.

Amidst the rather chiselled, sophisticated, and mature look of the theatre, the young cellist stood out like a sore thumb with her bubblegum-pink hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, her white camisole top with lace applications, and the dark-green culotte pants, which she tied above her waist with a pretty little bow.

Madara decided to give her another moment to savour the view while he retreated to his office. He glanced at his watch and noted with satisfaction that she was over-punctual. She still had fifteen minutes to spare before their scheduled meeting, which gave him another fifteen minutes to force all the inappropriate teasing he thought of when he saw her to the back of his mind. Though Madara had thoroughly enjoyed rattling Ms Haruno during their previous encounter, he had to be absolutely professional now – this time he was in his territory, after all, and he had a reputation to uphold. Namely that of a tough and relentless hard-ass conductor, who didn't feel a thing at the sight of some young musician's awe-struck eyes staring up at him as if he were her personal god and saviour.

The maestro took a seat at his desk, turned on his speakers, and opened the playlist he created for the upcoming tour. Clicking on the desired music file, he let the sound of Ludovico Einaudi's _Taranta _envelop his office as he started jotting down notes on the corresponding sheet music.

Einaudi's _Taranta Project_ was one of the more experimental parts of the repertoire he was planning for the tour. Frankly, he would not have even included it if Ms Haruno had not agreed to join his ensemble. The compositions Madara chose featured a strong focus on strings, and he simply couldn't imagine his orchestra performing such avant-garde pieces without a cellist who showed the same level of passion and eagerness to experiment as the composer himself.

The conductor was torn from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his office door. He lowered the volume of the song to a barely audible minimum and summoned her in.

Madara watched his principal cellist open the door and hesitantly step into the room. Her gaze roamed around his spacious office for a second before resting on him.

"Ms Haruno, welcome to Tokyo," he said as he walked around his desk to approach her.

The maestro noted another blush tainting her cheeks before she stretched out her hand to shake his. "Thank you, Mr Uchiha. You have no idea how excited I am to be here."

As he gestured for her to take a seat on the grey leather sofa, Madara heard her ask, "That was from _The Taranta Project_, wasn't it? Is Einaudi going to be part of our tour programme?" Madara leaned back in the armchair to Sakura's right and crossed one leg over the other. "That depends. How do you feel about opening with _Choros_?" He watched her eyes sparkle with excitement.

"I love that idea. But if you decide to perform the entire album, we could open with _Introductio _and just stick to Einaudi's original order. It's softer than _Choros _and would also set a better mood for _Taranta. _Though _Choros_ would be more appropriate if you want to go with a darker, more mature concert."

Madara narrowed his eyes and stared at the pinkette with a pensive gaze. How could someone so seemingly shy and unobtrusive hide so much excitement, passion, and energy? The way her eyes lit up at the mention of Einaudi's pieces and the way she enthusiastically talked about the things she loved made Madara decide to ask her about her opinion more often. When she realised he wasn't answering, her eyes widened in shock and she quickly clasped a hand over her mouth, before lowering it just enough to allow herself to speak. "I'm so sorry, Mr Uchiha. I didn't mean to criticise your choices or tell you what to do. I-I just… got carried away with the excitement and everything," she stammered, fixing her gaze on her lap before letting out a shaky breath. "I'm really nervous, in case you didn't realise."

The maestro studied the cellist for another moment, before murmuring, "Why are you nervous, Ms Haruno?"

She slowly raised her head again to look at him, and Madara had to actively restrain himself from staring at her teeth nervously biting her bottom lip. Instead, he watched her pull a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

"Because… it's you," she breathed weakly.

Well, that piqued his interest.

"Care to elaborate, Ms Haruno?"

The young cellist turned her gaze away from him, now resting on her lap again where she was watching her fingers play with the ends of the ribbon she tied above her waist. "Well… it's probably silly to you, but you're… you're sort of my favourite conductor and a huge role model and just – I don't know, being in the same room with you freaks me out, let alone the thought of playing in your orchestra. Not – not freak out in a bad way," she fixed him with a frantic gaze, hands waving in front of her in defence, "I'm not saying I'm so freaked out I can't perform in your presence, just like – you know, a nervous and excited sort of freak out, the sort that makes you annoyingly self-conscious and turns you into a giant perfectionist, because you desperately want to please your idol, and so…," Sakura let out a long sigh and turned her head away in embarrassment, before laughing anxiously, "and now I need to stop rambling. Anyway, I'm sorry if I stepped on your toes with my suggestions about Einaudi's album."

As soon as she stopped talking and started biting her lip again instead, Madara had to remind himself to keep calm. He found her adorable in a harmless sort of way when she was nervous and flustered, but when she was biting her lip, she instantly became a danger to his sanity and his firm conviction that hooking up with one of his orchestra's musicians was a terrible idea.

The raven-haired conductor cleared his throat to force himself out of his inappropriate line of thought and asserted, "You have nothing to worry about, Ms Haruno. I wasn't offended by your remarks in the slightest. To be honest, I was simply astonished at first, since none of my musicians usually dare to speak their mind or give me suggestions on anything. It was a pleasant surprise, though. I think I should ask for your opinion more often."

The pinkette's shoulders visibly relaxed as her lips spread into a grateful smile, and Madara noted with satisfaction that he was the put who put it there.

"Now, before you meet with our lawyer to sign the contract, I wanted to give you the chance to talk things through, answer any questions you might have. I believe you had enough time to read through it all. Was there anything you'd like to discuss with me?"

"Um, yes, actually. Though not so much about the contract per se, that was probably the most precise contract ever drafted. But um," he watched Ms Haruno lick her lips with such a fascination as if he were witnessing the birth of Jesus Christ himself, "I did have a few questions about the repertoire and the pieces you're considering for the tour. I noticed there were a few compositions for a string quartet with a heavy focus on the cello, even some cello solos. I was just wondering if it's maybe a bit early for me to be featured so heavily. I am the youngest member of your ensemble, after all, with the least amount of experience. I'm basically a rookie compared to your other musicians."

"Let me assure you, Ms Haruno, that you are by no means a rookie in my orchestra. None of my musicians think that, especially not me. And I would never assign you anything if I wasn't absolutely certain you could rise up to it."

The doubtful look in her eyes didn't waver. "I believe you, and I really appreciate your confidence in me. It's just – I'm worried that I might get off on the wrong foot with the others if I get so much attention right from the beginning. Maestro Senju didn't give me a solo piece until I was with the orchestra for a year, and even then, some people got really jealous and upset. I just want a smooth start without any bad blood."

Of course, Madara mused, he sensed there was a deeper reason behind her uncertainty. He knew that she knew how good she was and that she could perform those solo pieces in her sleep. Her hesitance had nothing to do with her doubting her musical prowess, but everything to do with her kind disposition, almost too kind for something so competitive and cut-throat as Japan's classical music scene.

Madara decided then that it was good he had taken such a liking to her. The cellist was right – if she wasn't careful, his musicians would eat her for breakfast. Lucky for her, the big bad wolf of a conductor harboured a teeny-tiny musical crush on her.

"Ms Haruno, you are the only person in my ensemble that I have personally pursued. Everybody else had to audition, but not you, because that's just how good you are. I'm not going to leave you unnoticed in the background, that would be a waste of and insult to your talent. That being said, the tour programme isn't finalised yet, so we can talk about changing bits and pieces, depending on how well our rehearsals go. But if I'm satisfied with your performance, you will take centre stage. And if anybody has a problem with that," Madara was just about to finish his sentence with _they can come to me_ but refrained from doing so when he realised how inappropriately possessive it sounded. "Then you should just be happy about the fact that older and more experienced musicians feel so threatened by someone so young. If anything, their jealousy is a compliment. Trust me, knowing you're better than others is a great confidence boost," the conductor added with a wicked grin.

Her melodious laughter echoed through his office which only made his smirk widen. When she calmed down, the pink-haired musician started biting her lip again, this time probably to stop herself from grinning. After another moment where Madara allowed himself to simply enjoy her carefree happiness, he added with gentle encouragement, "Seriously, Ms Haruno, don't worry about what others think of you. Our profession was and always will be highly competitive, and you will always make enemies no matter how kind you are or how many cookies you bake for your colleagues. Don't ever allow other people's inferiority complex to rain on your parade." Madara looked at her intently, his eyes softening as he murmured, "You're too good for that."

A deep blush spread across her face, and her doe-like eyes stared up at him with that look of wonder and admiration that made him want to shower her with compliments, if only she would keep looking at him that way. If he hadn't known any better, Madara could have sworn her gaze rested on his lips for a split second before meeting his eyes again.

The maestro had to physically force himself to look away. It got increasingly difficult to remain professional with all the adorable blushing and fidgeting. Here he was, a 39-year-old man who loved aged Scotch, old cars, self-assured women, and everything else that was ripe and mature in this world. And yet this young naïve little thing who was so nervous she was basically shaking in his presence, staring up at him like a lost lamb looking for shelter, stirred up a protective instinct in him he never knew he had.

Change of subject, Madara reminded himself. _Right fucking now_.

"Was there anything else you wanted to talk about, Ms Haruno?"

Please say no, please say no, please say no, please say –

"Yes."

_Fuck._

The conductor raised an expectant eyebrow while forcing his expression to relax in an effort to mask his internal struggle. He wanted her to stay for all the wrong reasons, so he needed her to leave for all the right ones.

"About your list of rules," Sakura started off hesitantly.

_Dear God, please don't mention rule number five._

The fingers of Madara's right hand dug into the armrest as he prepared himself for the worst.

"There was this one part where it said that you as the conductor choose our concert outfits. I was just wondering what fabric the clothes were made of. Because Maestro Senju tried it with velvet pant suits once and we all got a horrible rash, supposedly because of some chemicals they used to dye the fabric. I know it's silly and fabrics should be the least of your worries, but honestly, the rash was so annoying we had serious trouble concentrating on our performance. So I just wanted to make sure the clothes are… you know, normal."

Madara released a breath he didn't know he was holding in, and his fingers relaxed their grip on the leather of the armrest.

"I don't know what fabric they're made of, but I know it's not velvet, and I know nobody has ever gotten a rash or experienced any other bad reactions. But don't worry, everybody wears their concert outfits for the dress rehearsal, so should you feel uncomfortable in any way, we can still make adjustments before the actual concert."

A small smile spread across her lips, and she nodded in finality. "Great, thank you. Then that would be all for my part."

He replied with a nod of his own and stood up from his armchair. As Madara lead the cellist to his office door, he reminded her of her next appointment, "You'll see our lawyer Mr Hatake next. He'll go through the contract with you and answer any legal questions you might have. His office is on the third floor, in the Legal Department, room number 3.201. All the rooms are labelled and have door signs, so you really can't miss him."

The pinkette shot him another grateful smile. Madara offered his hand and when she took it, he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Welcome to the jungle, Ms Haruno."

The conductor opened the door of his office and sent her away with a devilish grin.

* * *

"So you're my boyfriend's replacement, huh?"

Sakura looked up from her sheet music and was met with the face of a gorgeous blonde staring her down with a haughty look.

"Excuse me?"

Sakura took in the person in front of her and realised then she was also holding a cello case. The blonde stepped closer and took a seat right next to her.

"Shikamaru Nara. He was our principal cellist," the musician explained while opening her case.

"Oh," it dawned on Sakura. Of course. Some of her former orchestra's musicians had hinted that the only reason Maestro Uchiha was able to take on a new cellist was because he kicked out the last one.

"You must hate me now, too, huh?" Sakura shot her fellow cellist a half-hearted apologetic smile.

The blonde to her left scoffed. "Why would I hate you?"

"Because I took away your boyfriend's seat in the orchestra. You could have still played together."

"Please," the woman made a dismissive gesture with her hand, "that idiot was never coming back."

Sakura looked at her incredulously and prodded, "So you don't hate me?"

The blonde cellist shot her an amused grin, which immediately released some of the tension Sakura was feeling. "I don't hate you, silly. It's not like you were actively involved in getting him kicked out. And the Maestro was bound to replace him at some point. So relax, no hard feelings."

The pinkette laughed awkwardly before offering her hand. "I'm Sakura Haruno. It's nice to finally meet another cellist of the ensemble."

A smile tugged on the blonde's lips as she shook her hand. "I'm Temari Sabakuno. Welcome to Tokyo."

"Thanks. By the way, what did you mean with your boyfriend wasn't coming back? I assume every musician would fight tooth and nail for a place in Maestro Uchiha's orchestra."

"Not this idiot of a musician," Temari scoffed while adjusting her endpin. "To be honest, we were kind of hoping to get caught. We were both tired of sneaking around, and Shikamaru was already looking for an excuse to quit. He's not the most ambitious person, you know, so he wasn't planning on staying much longer."

"Why didn't you leave with him?"

"Because unlike him, I don't want to stare at clouds all day. I want to conquer the world," the cellist proclaimed with a proud grin. "No but seriously, I really did want to stay. Maestro Uchiha gave us a choice – either break up and stay in the orchestra or one of us leaves. It was a no-brainer, really. I still get to do what I love with one of the world's greatest orchestras, and Shikamaru can just chill."

Sakura felt a smile tugging on her lips. Even though Temari was a virtual stranger, for some weird reason, she was still happy that everything worked out well for the both of them and that – most importantly – the blonde didn't hold a grudge against Sakura.

That was at least one person in the orchestra who was nice to her so far. The pinkette's gaze roamed around and took in the many musicians scurrying around the stage and readying themselves for the rehearsal. Some of them had introduced themselves, others only smiled and nodded in her general direction. And then there were those who didn't even deem her worthy enough of a single glance. A part of Sakura felt shunned, and yet another – albeit smaller part – proud. As Maestro Uchiha had said, everybody else in his ensemble was so much older and so much more experienced than her. What did it say about them if they felt threatened about someone so young?

Not that she needed a lot of encouraging from her conductor – she knew she deserved her place in his orchestra – but for some reason, being praised and complimented by Maestro Uchiha felt so much better than being praised by anybody else, even her previous conductor. Sakura couldn't wait to show his entire orchestra what she's got and to prove to her Maestro that he made the right decision in choosing her.

The chatter suddenly quieted down as their conductor entered the stage.

Sakura noticed that her Maestro had a penchant for wearing three-piece suits in dark colours. He never failed to uphold the suave and refined appearance he was known for, though sometimes he would discard his suit jacket and roll up his sleeves for a more relaxed look, like he did for rehearsal today.

The pink-haired cellist had to remind herself not to stare too much. Her Maestro was illegally handsome, but he was still her Maestro.

He tapped his baton against his music stand twice to signal the whispering flautists to quiet down. Once he had everyone's attention, he let his cold and calculating gaze roam through the rows of musicians who were all expectantly looking up at him. It was clear to Sakura that Maestro Uchiha demanded everyone's undivided attention and that he had no problem commanding each and every one of this 73 musicians with nothing but silence and a good old-fashioned intimidating stare.

"Before we start with our first rehearsal for the upcoming tour, allow me to address the elephant in the room. As you all know by now, the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra has got a new member as of this April. Ms Sakura Haruno joined us from Kyoto Concert Hall and will fill in our vacant spot of principal cellist."

Maestro Uchiha's eyes rested on her for a fleeting second as he spoke her name. Gone was the teasing and relaxed conductor she talked to in his office four days ago.

This was not Mr Uchiha.

This was Maestro Uchiha.

Calculating, in control, and completely in his element.

"Now, let's show Ms Haruno how well we can all work together. We're starting with Brian Tyler. Everybody take out your sheet music for _Sleight of Hand._ Strings, I want you to remember the sudden _crescendo_ at the beginning. Flautists, I want to hear a seamless transition from _staccato_ to _legato_ between the fourth and fifth bar. Once Ms Haruno begins her _pizzicato_ in the seventeenth bar, I want the violinists _pianissimo_ as well as Mr Uzumaki with the xylophones in the eighteenth bar."

This was it, Sakura thought excitedly. She usually never felt such a thrill during rehearsals, only at concerts. But this was a rehearsal under Maestro Uchiha. She felt goosebumps spread across the entirety of her skin as she readied herself and her instrument. Glancing up at her new Maestro, she caught his intense gaze. He gave her the slightest hint of a smile.

And then, he raised his baton.

"From the top."


	4. Chapter 4

**Edit: **I almost forgot to add this super important note: A thousand thank yous to my regulars who have followed this story from the get-go. There are a few of you who never fail to show their appreciation and never forget to leave an encouraging comment. Don't think I don't notice you, you stalkers ;). I am immensly thankful for your feedback and your comments, they keep me so motivated and give me a sense of validation, like this isn't just some sort of private thing that I only create for myself and nobody else gives a shit about it. If five hundred people read my story without leaving a comment or anything and I've only got the few reviews from you guys, it's still enough to show me that my work is appreciated. So thank you!

**Note: **For those of you who are as confused about orchestral stage etiquette as I am and have no idea what's going on with the whole handshake thing in this chapter, here's what I found out about it while doing research for chapter four: The first violinist in an orchestra is also called the concert master, he represents the entire orchestra and functions as a sort of "team captain" if you will. So whenever the maestro invites a soloist, the soloist is supposed to shake hands with the maestro (thanking him for the invitation basically) as well as the concert master (though there are variations to this, some only shake hands before the performance, some before and after, etc.). By shaking the CM's hand, the soloist essentially thanks all of the other musicians for their collaboration as solo concertos are usually a group effort, and you know the soloist can't go around shaking the hands of a hundred people so they usually only shake hands with the CM *gasp* wow that was a long explanation. Aaaaaaanyway, here's a video of the concerto Sakura is performing in this chapter: Camille Saint-Saën's Cello Concerto No. 1 in A minior: watch?v=TJVGB6Bf3uE

Enjoy, have fun reading, let me know if you liked it, leave a comment, send a carrier pigeon, send a smoke signal, you know whatever floats your boat. You know the drill.

* * *

"A little to the left. Chin up. Perfect, stay that way."

Sakura had trouble not squinting her eyes when the photographer unleashed another onslaught of camera flashes upon her. She was currently in his studio doing a photo shoot for the orchestra's and the theatre's official websites. Her probation period was over, and they were only a week away from kicking off their tour after their first performance at home, so now the New National Theatre was going to officially announce her as the principal cellist of Maestro Uchiha's ensemble complete with interviews, articles, videos of her rehearsals, and ridiculously over-the-top photographs.

The nickname the press had given her after her solo in Sapporo spread like wildfire, and the orchestra's publicist decided to capitalise on her image as the _Imperatrix Furiosa_. So they put her in a majestic velvet evening gown dyed in a scandalous scarlet with a skirt wide enough to allow her to spread her legs to accommodate her cello on the throne-like chair she was currently sitting in. Her hair was tied up into an overly dramatic and intricate updo and fastened with fancy _kanzashi _hair pins that were sticking out in such a manner they made it look like she was wearing a crown.

The dress and accessories paired with the red lipstick and dramatic eye make-up made her look every bit the Furious Empress and the enticing femme fatale of Japan's classical music scene the publicist wanted her to portray.

And Sakura hated every second of it.

"Do you think you have enough pictures now?" the young cellist asked tentatively while trying to hold her unnatural pose.

Deidara, the orchestra's publicist, looked up from the laptop where her photographs appeared right after being snapped. "Just a few more, sweety. You're doing great, though." He gave her an encouraging thumbs-up and shot her an apologetic smile. Great, Sakura mused silently, she must have looked more uncomfortable than she thought. And here she was thinking she was good at hiding it.

"Seriously, though, we need to wrap this up. She's got rehearsal in an hour, and Madara will chop off my head if his MVP is late," Sakura heard the blonde publicist explain to the photographer. She sincerely hoped the heavy make-up was covering the deep blush she could feel spreading across her cheeks at his remark. Did her Maestro really tell the publicist she was his most valuable musician?

"No grinning, please," came the photographer's command from behind his lens.

Right. Stop daydreaming, Sakura reminded herself.

Straightening her back and schooling her features, the pink-haired cellist remained motionless on her make-shift throne. After a few more minutes of clicking, snapping, repositioning, and flashing, Sakura was finally free to get out of her dress and wash off all that make-up. She undid her complicated updo and gathered her hair into a high puffy ponytail. Putting on her pastel green boat neck dress with box pleats and slipping into her simple white ballerinas, she immediately felt more comfortable, like her young and goofy self and not the mature and seductive diva the photographer wanted her to be.

"Chop-chop, darling. Maestro Menacing is waiting for you." Sakura was torn from her thoughts at the sound of Deidara calling out from the other side of the closed door. The young musician had to supress a smirk at the sound of the nickname she knew the publicist secretly used for her Maestro. He wasn't entirely wrong, Mr Uchiha really could come across as menacing and unapproachable. But Sakura had gotten to know another side of him over the last weeks as well. There was a gentleness to him he only rarely showed, tiny little smiles of satisfaction and subtle gestures of encouragement. As much as she appreciated his constructive criticism, she loved his nods of approval and his _well done, Ms Haruno_'s even more.

And she couldn't wait to prove herself to her Maestro during the upcoming tour and hope for a bit more of his praise she so selfishly craved.

After Deidara and Sakura left the photographer's studio, they immediately headed back to the theatre where the rest of Maestro Uchiha's ensemble was already preparing themselves for one of their last rehearsals before kicking off their tour. Sakura took her usual seat to the right of the conductor's music stand. She was so busy tuning her cello, she didn't even notice her Maestro approach his podium.

"Ms Haruno." A deep voice made her look up in surprise and she was met with the sight of the raven-haired conductor casually leaning on the rail of his podium with his strong arms crossed in front of his broad chest, clad in a meticulous three-piece suit sans the jacket.

The young cellist prayed to God her blush wasn't as visible as she thought it was.

"Yes, Maestro?" she answered in a small voice.

"How was the photoshoot?"

Sakura gave him a weak smile and chuckled softly. "Honestly? It was horrible. They dressed me up in this heavy, floor-length gown and backcombed my hair so much it looked like I had a bird's nest on my head in the end. And I had so much make-up on I could literally feel my pores dying a horrible death by asphyxiation. Please don't look at the photos once they upload them."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad. But if it makes you feel any better, I will not go actively looking for your pictures. Though I have to admit, I would love to see a pink bird's nest." Her Maestro's teasing grin made her giggle, and Sakura looked up at the raven-haired conductor with a huge smile on her face.

Just in that moment, she could hear the sound of a camera shutter from her left. Both her Maestro and Sakura turned around in surprise and spotted Deidara standing in the middle of the countless rows of seats with a camera in his hand.

"Finally. Do you know how difficult it is to get a photo of two people together who both hate to pose for pictures? You two are a publicist's nightmare, but you're lucky you're so goddamn photogenic."

Sakura turned to Maestro Uchiha and looked at him questioningly. With an annoyed eye roll, he explained, "Deidara said he needed a picture of the two of us together for our countless social media profiles. He wants to make a post about me welcoming you to the ensemble or whatever, and apparently, I cannot officially welcome you without a picture."

His obvious annoyance with the blonde publicist elicited another laugh from the young cellist. Sakura watched her conductor narrow his eyes at her before his own lips spread into a tiny amused grin.

"Alright, that's enough giggling now, Ms Haruno. If you keep enjoying my jokes like that, the other members of my orchestra might start to think I actually have a heart."

Biting on her bottom lip to keep herself from chuckling at his quip and again hoping that her blush wouldn't betray her, the young cellist focused her gaze on her sheet music and readied her instrument for the rehearsal. The other musicians took their seats as well, filling up the vacant space around Sakura, and fixed their eyes on the conductor.

Maestro Uchiha gave his final orders, raised his baton, and the musicians started playing.

* * *

"I finally got Naruto to accept my karaoke challenge. He's going to do Leona Lewis' Bleeding Love at the bar tonight, you gotta come with us!"

The pink-haired cellist looked up from her sheet music and was met with the face of her new roommate Ino, the principal clarinet of their ensemble. After her first rehearsal with the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra, Temari had introduced her to some people she claimed were the only tolerable ones, and Sakura immediately hit it off with the blonde musician. Not long after getting to know each other, Ino offered her to move in with her after her previous roommate accepted another job in a different city. Though some of her newly found friends in the orchestra, who had all known Ino for a long time now, jokingly advised her against it with the explanation that _she's bi and you're annoyingly adorable and totally her type, she'll eat you up and spit you out_, Sakura hadn't regretted a single second of being the roommate of the exuberant and feisty clarinet player.

"Sure, I'll be there. I just need a minute to talk to the Maestro," Sakura answered with an amused grin.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ino bounce up and down with excitement. "Yay, it's gonna be so great. We always go out the night before our first performance, without any alcohol of course," the blonde musician added in a loud voice, pointedly looking in Maestro Uchiha's direction before continuing, "but still, you're gonna have so much fun with us. I'll see you at home. And don't be late, missy, I still need to do your make-up."

Sakura was met with the end of Ino's perfectly manicured index finger pointed accusingly at her face before the blonde turned on her heel and strutted off the stage as if it were her own personal catwalk.

Gathering her things, the pink-haired cellist made her way to the Maestro, who was currently busy berating his principal percussionist Naruto for goofing around with his timpani sticks during a break and pretending to have a swordfight with his fellow players. She decided to wait for them to finish and came to a halt in the middle of the string section when she realised that their orchestra's concert master Kabuto was seemingly also waiting for a word with their conductor.

The grey-haired violinist was one of the musicians who hadn't even spared her a glance on her first day. But while most of them seemed to have come around in the meantime or have at least started greeting their newest member, Kabuto was still adamantly giving her the cold shoulder. Whenever she tried talking to him, Sakura was met with nothing but haughty looks and condescending remarks. Though she had to admit, the moments of interaction between them were few and far between, because Sakura tried to keep them to a minimum. Their concert master was clearly of the highly competitive sort, and Sakura had no intention of letting him drag her into a musical pissing contest.

And still, manners were manners, so the cellist forced a tight smile and greeted him.

"Hey, Kabuto. Excited for our first concert tomorrow?"

The grey-haired violinist slowly turned his head and looked down his nose at her. He studied her for a second with narrowed eyes, as if trying to discern whether or not she was worthy of an answer, before opening his mouth, "I'm sure you are."

Supressing the urge to roll her eyes at his usual cryptic answer, Sakura instead ignored his remark and cleared her throat. "So um, every CM seems to be handling stage etiquette a bit differently, so I wanted to ask you how you want to do the handshake tomorrow? Before and after, or just after or do you –"

"Honestly, Haruno, I couldn't care less about the handshake or your solo. But if this really is so confusing to you, why don't you go ask Daddy for help? It's not like our Maestro has anything better to do than take his new little girl by the hand and show her how things work around here."

_What the hell was that supposed to mean?_

Sakura could feel her cheeks heating up at his embarrassing remark, and she stared at him open-mouthed, stunned into silence. Luckily, she didn't have to come up with an answer, since Kabuto was approached by another violinist in that moment, asking him whether he wanted to go out tonight.

"No thanks, I'll be staying at the theatre for a while longer. I've got other plans for later," the concert master explained with a devious grin.

After the violinist left, Kabuto made no attempt to address Sakura again, and Maestro Uchiha was still not done chewing out Naruto. Since she felt so incredibly uncomfortable in Kabuto's presence, the young musician decided to grab her cello case and leave. Not even the prospect of talking to Maestro Uchiha for a few minutes was worth it, if it meant she had to spend another second in awkward silence with the concert master who seemed to hate her guts.

* * *

There was a ritual Madara had long formed a habit of going through before every concert he was going to conduct. It consisted of him mumbling every single articulation in chronological order of every piece of that night's programme while he re-arranged the seats of his musicians on stage. Even though the stage crew of every theatre he ever worked at never failed to position everything correctly, the conductor still felt more at east when he could move every chair and every music stand to just the perfect spot.

Madara was currently contemplating whether to push a sax player's seat half a centimetre to the left or to the right when he heard a commotion from backstage. He followed the noise to the labyrinth of dressing rooms where his eyes caught sight of three blonde musicians rushing from one room to the next, frantically looking for something.

"What do you mean, she can't find it. It must be there!" Temari came rushing past him with a handbag before she promptly dumped its content on a table and started digging through it.

"I don't know. When we got home last night, I asked her if all of her stuff was ready in the dressing room. She told me she checked everything three times, even tried on the shoes just to be safe, because she was afraid they gave her the wrong size."

Madara watched his principal clarinet go through the countless makeup bags before she turned to another person in the hall. "Naruto, did you check the clothing racks in all the dressing rooms?" Madara's gaze landed on the blonde percussionist who just entered the room with an apologetic shake of his head.

Clearing his throat to get their attention, the raven-haired conductor leaned against the door frame and let his gaze wander around the dressing room in which the three musicians were currently bustling about.

"Our concert starts in half an hour. I sincerely hope you'll find whatever you're so desperately looking for."

Madara's accusatory gaze met the desperate look of the blonde clarinet player before she approached him, grabbing his arm and tugging him down the hall.

"Maestro, you need to help us. It's an emergency."

Ino came to a halt in front of the closed door of another dressing room and knocked twice before letting herself in. Madara stayed behind, still unsure of what was really going on.

"Oh God, Ino, please tell me you have it, please! I need to be ready before anyone finds out, or before he finds out. Please, we need to hurry, Maestro Uchiha absolutely can't know about this, or I'm screwed!"

Madara's heart suddenly lurched in his chest at the sound of Sakura's distraught voice so close to tears. He took a step forward and entered the room where he was met with the sight of his principal cellist dressed up in her concert outfit, a dark-green fitted pant suit, black patent leather Oxford's, and a white blouse fully buttoned up – and missing a bow tie.

"Ms Haruno, what's going on?"

She fixed her scared, wide eyes on him, and Madara was immediately hit with the urge to envelop her in his arms and assure her he'll make everything right for her again.

The conductor couldn't help but let his gaze be drawn to her beautiful mouth, invited by the sight of her teeth chewing on her bottom lip before releasing it to speak.

"Maestro, I'm so so sorry, but I … I can't seem to find my bow tie. But I swear to God it was here. After the rehearsal and before I left the theatre yesterday, I checked if all of my stuff was ready like you told us and I swear to God my outfit was complete, I know I saw the bow tie with the rest of my clothes. But now it's gone and we looked everywhere and I don't know what to do. God, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry to disappoint you." Her voice was shaky and on the verge of tears and Madara had to consciously restrain the urge in his feet to run to her.

He was just about to say something to comfort the distraught young cellist when he heard more voices approaching the dressing room. The maestro turned around to see a small crowd gathered outside the door, all asking and wondering what was going on with their youngest member.

"Nothing to see here, alright? Just looking for a lost bow tie. We'll be ready any second now, so scram, got it?" The blonde clarinet player fixed the crowd with a stern gaze and waved her hands in front of her to signal the other musicians to disperse.

"Maybe we should help look? I'm sure we'll find it faster that way. Then we can all get back to our preparations in peace."

Out of the corner of his eye, Madara could see Sakura's head shoot up and her eyes widen in surprise at the sound of his concert master's suggestion. But before anybody could say anything, Kabuto had already turned around and left.

"I'm sorry for troubling you with this, Maestro. We actually promised Sakura not to tell you anything, but we really couldn't find it anywhere after looking for so long, and now we're kind of lost." Ino's apologetic gaze was shooting back and forth between the conductor and his principal cellist.

"It's quite alright, Ms Yamanaka. I'm glad you told me. Now I can get to the bottom of this myself."

When he saw Sakura's worried expression turn even more desperate, Madara felt like slapping himself. That came out way more threatening than he intended it to. He was just about to clarify his statement when he heard a knock on the open door which made all their heads turn around.

Kabuto was standing in the doorway with his right hand raised, a bow tie dangling from the edge of his middle finger. "You'll never guess where I found this," he said in a casual tone, a barely visible smirk gracing his features.

Madara watched his principal clarinet cross her arms in front of her chest. "Oh I'm sure I will."

Kabuto ignored her, instead stepping into the dressing room and approaching Sakura. "Somehow, it landed in a drawer of one of the dressing tables." He slipped the bow tie off his middle finger, and Sakura barely had enough time to catch it. "Lucky for you I'm so thorough at everything I do." He gave her what was probably meant to be a half-baked attempt at a sincere smile and then turned to face Madara, his fake grin widening, before he left the room.

The maestro's eyes landed on the young cellist in front of him again, who was still staring after the concert master with a look of confusion. He glanced at his watch and cleared his throat.

"Everybody out. I need a minute with Ms Haruno."

After her friends hesitantly left the room and closed the door behind them, Madara let his gaze rest on Sakura's downcast head. It was then the maestro realised she was playing with the bow tie in her hand, tugging at it and turning it around between her fingers. She was nervous.

"Ms Haruno, look at me."

At the sound of his soft command, Sakura slowly raised her head to meet his gaze. Madara had to supress a groan at the sight of her teeth chewing on her bottom lip again.

"Please don't be mad at me," her whispering voice pleaded with him.

"I'm not mad, Ms Haruno. I know none of this was your fault, trust me." He closed his hands over her fidgeting ones and took the bow tie.

"Chin up."

The young cellist just stared at him for a second, jade-green eyes wide with confusion.

Madara took a step closer to her, put a finger beneath her chin and forced her head up. He then proceeded to turn up her collar and fasten the bow tie around her neck.

"You're not going to allow this incident to rattle you, you're better than this and we both know it. Once I call you up on stage, you're going to walk up there like you own the place, play your solo to perfection, and blow everyone away." He gave her bow tie a final tug.

"Have I made myself understood, Ms Haruno?" Madara looked down at her with a strict gaze and a tiny amused smirk gracing his lips.

"Yes, Maestro," Sakura nodded enthusiastically while smiling up at him with a look of pure determination.

"Good." Madara grabbed her chin between his fingers and leaned closer to her face before murmuring, "I wouldn't expect anything less form my protégé."

He watched with satisfaction as a deep blush spread across her cheeks and her jade-green eyes widened in surprise, staring up at him with that look of wonder, reverence, and gratification she only seemed to have reserved for him, as if his praise was the only thing in the world giving her life meaning.

Unable to resist, Madara allowed his gaze to rest on her inviting lips for a split second before letting go off her chin and forcing himself to leave her dressing room.

His thoughts kept swirling around the young cellist even as he stepped onto the stage amidst tumultuous applause. The conductor had to admit that it was a good decision not to have Sakura join the ensemble for the entire programme but only for her solo in the last half hour; he probably wouldn't have been able to keep his eyes from her. Though that wasn't the original reason for not having her on stage for the entire performance. What Madara was really hoping to achieve with the late entrance of his principal cellist was to give her the grand introduction deserving of a musician of her calibre. After all, the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra was one of the most prestigious ensembles in the world of classical music, and Sakura Haruno wasn't just anybody. And a good maestro knows to save the best for last.

Despite his mind being distracted with the image of her inviting lips only centimetres away from his own, Madara was still able to focus on the musicians in front of him as he led his orchestra through the concert's programme. After they finished their second to last piece and when it was time for Sakura's solo, he signalled his ensemble to quiet down, turned around on his podium to face the audience and grabbed a microphone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, as you may have heard the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra has signed on a new member. As of this April, our vacant spot of principal cellist was filled with an immensely talented young musician from Kyoto. Though she doesn't need an introduction, she's going to get one anyway. She is an award-winning cello prodigy who was the youngest ever recipient of the first Grand Prize at the Rostropovitch Cello Competition at the age of sixteen. She studied under Takanori Nakano, Stjepan Hauser, and Steven Isserlis, to mention but a few. After establishing herself as a world-renowned cellist in her previous orchestras, she will now join us for our tour as the newest and youngest member of my ensemble. Ladies and Gentlemen, you will now hear Camille Saint-Saëns' Cello Concerto number 1 in A minor with our new principal cellist Sakura Haruno as the soloist."

Madara put down the microphone, stepped off his podium, and walked off the stage to where Sakura was waiting for him.

"Ready?" he asked with an encouraging smile.

She answered with a determined nod as her lips spread into an excited grin. "As I'll ever be."

The maestro signalled her to lead the way. As the cellist stepped onto the stage with her instrument in hand, the audience erupted into thunderous applause. Madara followed after her, clapping his hands like the rest of the guests and the musicians of his ensemble. He watched her bow deeply to the audience before turning to Kabuto and shaking his hand with a smug grin plastered on her face. She waited for Madara to step onto his podium before shaking his hand as well.

"Give 'em hell, Ms Haruno."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see another one of her blushes he liked so much taint her cheeks as she took a seat and readied herself with a subtle, sincere smile gracing her lips.

Madara raised his baton while Sakura steadied her bow above the strings of her cello. They shared one last look, the cellist looking up at her maestro for guidance and the maestro giving her a tiny smile of approval. He nodded to his entire ensemble.

As the music enveloped the large concert hall, Madara could see Sakura sway in her seat, eyes closed and completely surrendering herself to her instrument. He knew in that moment that she was gone now, transporting her mind into whatever utopia she conjured up whenever she let go and allowed her music to simply take her away.

As easy as it was for him to get and hold her attention, the maestro had to begrudgingly admit that music still seemed to be the only thing able to ensnare her in a way he could not. He was going to have to change that soon enough, he decided.

But for the time being, Madara let her be. His protégé was lost to the world now, anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: **I don't even know what to say at this point, I mean I'm such an unreliable fanfic writer that you guys have probably forgotten this here thing even exists but ANYWHORE the saga continues. As with every chapter so far, here's the song recommendation for the Beijing concert, the one with the jazz theme and Mei's vocals: Hooverphonic - _2 Wicky_ (Live at Koningin Elisabethzaal 2012) watch?v=ZJSQxbedplM as well as Hooverphonic - _Mad About You_ (also the live version) watch?v=6EA-MIYY1bg .

I suggest you listen to the entire concert and all the songs, because the band is just great, though not all of their songs have that slow, seductive James-Bond-like sound I was imagining for that particular concert. Some of them are more happy-go-lucky pop songs, so Madara wouldn't have picked them for the concert. But just imagine that the entire programme would have consisted of songs like _2 Wicky_ and _Mad About You. _I chose the songs based on the singer mentioned in this chapter, because I think that's the type of music that would best fit an alluring and seductive woman like Mei Terumi.

Anyway, have fun reading and please let me know what you think! I'm dying to get some feedback, because things are finally kicking off in this chapter and it was so much fun to write and I'm really looking forward to your opinion.

* * *

_Sakura Haruno stunned Tokyo with her first solo performance in Maestro Uchiha's ensemble with the grace and elegance of a musician far more experienced than what can usually be expected of a twenty-year old. Demonstrating her mastery of the cello with Camille Saint-Sa__ë__ns' Cello Concerto number 1 in A minor, the young Ms Haruno proved once again that she was worthy of her nickname. Imperatrix Furiosa is what the press are calling her, though the talented cellist seems to be only channelling that alter ego on stage. At the afterparty, Ms Haruno was less a furious empress and more a down-to-earth, if not timid, girl-next-door type, prompting criticism by some that Maestro Uchiha signed her on at too young an age and that the shy cellist may have bitten off more than she can chew with her world-famous globetrotting new conductor (Madara Uchiha pictured here with Sakura Haruno during the afterparty at the Sky Lounge Stellar Garden Bar)._

Sakura's eyes travelled from the article to the photo right next to it, depicting her maestro and herself. While Mr Uchiha was his usual suave self in a black-lined burgundy-coloured velvet suit jacket and his signature barely-there-but-still-somehow-visible smirk, Sakura stuck out like a sore thumb. Not only because of her hair colour and her height – she was sure Mr Uchiha would dwarf her even if she wore Ino's tallest high heels. It was this whole timid and immature little girl vibe she was giving off with her floral collar dress, her pastel pink ballet flats and her shy and unsure smile.

Having read the review of their Tokyo concert, Sakura was now worried whether or not the critics were right. Was she really too young to join such a prestigious orchestra? Was she too immature and inexperienced to have so much pressure and responsibility thrust upon her as a principal cellist? Despite feeling comfortable and self-assured during a concert, there were moments where she did feel somewhat out of place amidst her older and more experienced colleagues. Like during that afterparty two days ago, where everyone showed up all dressed up and fancy and confidently rubbing elbows with Tokyo's music high society, while Sakura felt like a farm girl who wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between a Virgin Mary and a Bloody Mary if it bit her in the ass.

Gnawing on her bottom lip, the young cellist let her gaze wander through the airplane interior. They were currently on a flight to Seoul for their first international concert. Her worried gaze landed on her conductor sitting two rows in front of her to her right, currently busy with adding notes to the sheet music on his tablet.

How she wished she could confide in him now.

Sakura recalled the feeling of euphoria when he had called her his protégé in the dressing room while fixing her bow tie. She never felt so incredibly confident while playing a concert on stage as she did during those 30 minutes following his compliment. Sakura almost couldn't believe that her maestro had said that to her in the first place, so she decided to ask him about it during the afterparty.

Sakura remembered how nervous she had been the entire evening. The pink-haired cellist thought about a hundred different ways how she could ask Mr Uchiha about his declaration without coming off as the attention-seeking and completely love-sick puppy that she really was. It took her more than an hour to build up the courage to approach him when he was alone at the bar.

"Um… I-I'm sorry, Mr Uchiha? Do you have a second?"

When her conductor turned around, he actually had to look down to meet her gaze. Her maestro really was ridiculously tall. He turned his body to face her, left hand casually in his pocket, right arm leaning on the bar with a drink in hand.

"Yes, Ms Haruno?"

"Um…," she ran both hands down her dress to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles, "I-I wanted to ask you… something."

When she dared to lift her gaze to look at him, she was met with a raised eyebrow and an expectant grin.

"Go on, Ms Haruno. I'm not going to bite," her maestro added with a widening smirk.

Hoping the blush colouring her cheeks at his remark would cool down soon, the pink-haired cellist gathered her courage, cleared her throat and spoke, "Sir, it's about what you said to me in the dressing room, when you- when you fixed my bow tie? Um, you see I was really nervous, and I wasn't really thinking straight, I mean I'm never really thinking straight around you," heat crept up her face again and her eyes widened as she realised what she had just said, "I mean- I didn't mean… it's just, you make me… a little nervous, is all. And anyway, I probably wasn't even hearing right, but for some reason my muddled brain seems to think that I heard you say… that…," at this point her courage started fading away. Sakura started playing with the hem of her dress while thinking of a way to continue without sounding desperate for his approval.

"Heard me say what, Ms Haruno?"

Her eyes snapped up to meet his intense gaze staring at her expectantly.

"I think I heard you say that- that I was your…," she leaned a bit closer to him and whispered, "protégé."

And now that the word was finally out in the open, Sakura couldn't stop herself.

"And I just wanted to ask you if that really was what you said. Because even though every fibre of my being wants it to be true, there's still a part of me who just wouldn't believe that you- _the_ Maestro Uchiha would have said that to _me_ of all people. I mean you've never publicly acknowledged anyone as your protégé before, and I- I'm so young. You see, I just didn't want to get my hopes up in case it was just a misunderstanding and I didn't hear it right. So please just be honest with me. You can tell me if I was wrong, it'll crush me for a day or two, but I can take it."

She stared up at him with a look of what she hoped would even remotely resemble determination, though that look started to falter when she was met with her conductor's amused grin.

"I heard wrong, didn't I? Ok, well… Sorry for wasting your time, Sir."

Sakura was just about to turn around, when she felt his warm hands circle around her biceps, holding her in place. She saw his mouth open to say something just as they were interrupted by a photographer asking for a picture of the two of them. After posing for a few seconds and waiting for the photographer to leave, her maestro turned around and finally spoke, "Ms Haruno, that day you were in my office, what did I tell you about the difference between you and all my other musicians?"

"That I was the only one who didn't have to audition?"

"Correct. I didn't _want_ the other musicians, I simply needed them to fill my ensemble. But you – you, I wanted. There were hundreds of suitable musicians for every other role in my orchestra, and they all had to audition, but there was only one suitable musician for your particular position. You, Ms Haruno, were the exception from the start."

"So… does that mean that you really did say what I think you said?"

"Would you like it to be true?"

"More than anything in the world."

"Good," Mr Uchiha said before taking a sip of his drink.

And then he said something that made Sakura's insides tingle with excitement even two days later.

_In that case, you're mine now._

* * *

"We're done for today. You've all got the rest of the evening off. Do not overdo it, though, I expect all of you to be in top shape for our next rehearsal tomorrow at 10 a.m."

Madara watched his musicians hastily pack their things and stow away their instruments. He was aware that they were eager to get back to the hotel and relax for a few hours; after all, they landed in Seoul only this morning and already had to endure a four-hour rehearsal. They deserved a break.

Madara, however, wasn't done yet. And neither was his protégé.

"Ms Haruno."

He would never tire of the way she immediately sprung to attention whenever he called her name and how she would fix her huge doe-like eyes on him, like a puppy in training expectantly waiting for its master's orders and determined to use every opportunity to impress him.

"Yes, Maestro?"

"I hope you haven't got any plans for this evening."

Madara didn't want it to come out so suggestive but seeing that adorable blush spread across the young cellist's cheeks was worth it.

"Um… No, Sir, I- I don't, actually. W-Why are you asking?"

"I want you to go through your parts again, on your own."

"Why, Sir? Was I not good enough? I'll do better, I promise," she said with a pleading look on her face.

Her dedication to her craft was inspiring. And her constant need to please him was an incredible turn-on.

"Let's start with Bergersen's _Sun_," Madara ordered while watching the last of his ensemble leave the stage. When he heard a nervous sigh escape her lips, his gaze was immediately drawn back to her teeth chewing on her bottom lip. Madara allowed himself to be transfixed by the sight for a few seconds, fully aware that this indulgence would just lead to more wet dreams. Like the one he had last night about her kneeling in front of him and nervously chewing on her bottom lip as he gives her a step-by-step instruction on how to suck his cock.

"_Am I doing it right?" she asks after having released him from her mouth with a loud plop. She stares up at him with her big, innocent eyes, desperately needing his approval and his praise._

"_Just like that, keep going little one," he orders while tugging a strand of hair behind her ear and watching her lips close around him again._

"_That's a good girl." _

Madara was torn from his short daydream when he realised the young cellist had stopped playing. His gaze focused on Sakura's face and he felt his cock immediately stiffen when he saw the expression she was wearing. It was the same as in his dream, right when she asked him if she was doing it right – all innocent and hopeful eyes, silently begging him to praise her.

"Am I doing it right, Maestro?"

Gods damn it, of course she had to go ahead and say the same words, too.

Despite the inappropriate nature of his current train of thought, the reminder of his last wet dream gave the conductor an idea. The Sakura in his dreams would always light up like a Christmas tree and her eyes would sparkle with adoration whenever Madara called her a good girl. And now it was time for the conductor to test how close real-life Sakura was to her dream persona.

He came to a halt directly in front of her and looked into her wide, expectant eyes.

"Good girl."

The megawatt smile she gave him as a response was enough to prove his theory. Madara would be damned if he didn't use every opportunity to praise her like that from now on. Much like she seemed to crave his approval and appreciation, Madara, too, found himself enjoying the looks of pure and unadulterated worship and reverence he was met with whenever he deemed her worthy of his attention.

"That was well done, Ms Haruno. Now why couldn't you deliver the same performance during rehearsal? I had the feeling you were distracted by something."

He watched her shoulders slump and her face fall as she leaned back into her seat. "I know, Sir. But it's nothing, really, just… just something silly. I won't happen again, I promise."

Madara would murder that something silly if the mere mention of it was enough to dim her smile.

"What's going on?"

"You don't need to worry about it, really. I'm sure you have much more important things to do than listen to me whine about my trivial issues." Sakura tried her best to give him a reassuring smile but judging by the way she was nervously playing with the strings of her cello, that particular issue seemed to really eat away at her.

"Ms Haruno, part of being your mentor also involves making sure you feel confident and good about yourself on a personal level as well, not just on a professional one. If something is bothering you and you don't deal with it properly, it might turn into a bigger issue someday, which could in turn affect your performance. Now, out with it."

Sakura looked at him hesitantly, before sighing and opening her mouth, "It's this review of our first concert that was published in The Japan Times. They said you made a mistake with me, that you signed me on too early and that I'm too young for you and too inexperienced and too shy and that I'm basically just not good enough for you."

Madara had read the article himself, and he had already thought that his protégé would be bothered by the criticism. He grabbed one of the many chairs on stage and took a seat right in front of his principal cellist. "Is that why you've been distracted today? You think you're not good enough?"

"It's not just that. Or actually it's not that at all, because I know I'm a damn good cellist, and I don't think I'm lacking anything in the talent department. What bothered me most is that they kept mentioning my age and how young and inexperienced I am. They made me look like some naïve little farm girl who doesn't know what she's doing with all those big shot musicians who are just going to eat her up and spit her out."

"Ms Haruno, I've been in this business for two decades now, and I was responsible for enough auditions to be able to tell which musician has got what it takes. Trust me when I tell you I would not have picked you if I didn't have absolute faith in your ability to keep up with the rest of my orchestra. In fact, part of the reason I chose you was precisely _because_ you were so young, so don't ever let anybody make you feel like that is a disadvantage, because it's not."

Madara could see that his words had a calming effect on her. His reassurance resulted in a timid smile tugging at her lips as she tentatively asked, "Do you really mean that? That you picked me because I'm so young? Because you've never worked with anyone my age before. You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?"

"The last thing anybody would accuse me of is sugarcoating my opinion and buttering someone up. Trust me, I never lie to my musicians, least of all to my protégé."

"But why? Why was my age so decisive when you thought about signing me on?"

_Well, I didn't know it back then, but as it turns out I have a thing for little girls with a Daddy complex and a desperate need to please._

Naturally, Madara couldn't give that particular explanation, so he went for the next best thing, "For the same reason an artist would never paint on an already used canvas. You're easier to mould now. You're my blank canvas."

And he was going to paint her in all of his colours. Especially in all sorts of red hues, like the ones adorning her cheeks at the moment.

"You want to mould me?"

_Among many other, much much naughtier things._

"I am your mentor, after all, and that's what's expected of me. We mould our protégés into their best possible selves."

He gave her a tiny reassuring smile and stood up from his chair.

"Now let's continue. Richter's _Infra 5._ I want the _mezzo-staccato_ more pronounced this time."

* * *

Her maestro's encouraging words should have been enough to dispel any worries she had about her age and the question of whether or not she was too young and inexperienced to be part of his orchestra. And yet, here she was, five days after their concert in Seoul, sitting on stage in the Beijing Concert Hall, feeling all kinds of inadequate and wishing she had half the cup size of their singer.

Mei Terumi. Half Chinese, half Japanese opera diva par excellence and a proud E cup. She had the voice of an angel, the curves of Aphrodite, and all the grace, elegance and finesse of a mature woman who – contrary to Sakura – can not only walk in high heels, but actually stand around in them and sing her heart out for four hours straight without breaking a sweat or ruining her perfect hairdo. She was Maestro Uchiha's special guest for their Beijing concert tomorrow; they were the musical accompaniment while Ms Terumi would beguile the audience with seductive jazz songs.

While Sakura loved the pieces her maestro chose for the concert, she was glad that particular programme wasn't planned for every performance and that the opera singer wouldn't accompany them for the entire tour. Because their conductor chose different pieces for every other city they would perform in, the jazz theme with Mei Terumi's vocals was only planned this once for Beijing.

And judging by that weird feeling of inadequateness Sakura got every time she even so much as looked at the singer, one performance with her is more than enough to dampen her spirits.

"Do you think the two of them are doing it?"

Her head whipped to her right where she was met with the sight of their principal percussionist twirling his drumsticks. They were currently on a short break during their rehearsal, so Naruto came to join them in the string section.

"What do you mean 'doing it'?" Sakura asked while trying to avoid getting the pointy end of his drumsticks stuck in her eye.

"You know, _it_." The blonde musician suggestively wiggled with his eyebrows, but his expectant look was met with only more confusion, and Sakura shrugged her shoulders.

"Give it up, Naruto. Forehead is way too innocent to even think about such things. Isn't that right," Ino asked with a teasing grin, leaning closer to Sakura before whispering, "little Miss virgin?"

Sakura didn't even have time to cover her blushing face when she heard Naruto snicker right next to her. "Oh my God, you are so adorable. You seriously didn't know that doing it means having sex? You are such a pure, innocent little flower, and I shall shield you from being corrupted by this evil, sex-obsessed witch."

"This evil, sex-obsessed witch will visit your hotel room tonight and shove her clarinet up your ass if you don't shut your cakehole soon. But seriously though, the two of them are totally doing it. I mean look at her, who wouldn't wanna do her? Plus, she's totally Mr Uchiha's type, you know mature, sophisticated, can probably tell the difference between Scotch and Bourbon. Hell, I'd do her, and she is so far out of my league she might as well live on Proxima Centauri."

Sakura followed Ino's gaze and let her eyes rest on the singer standing next to their conductor, currently busy with discussing a particularly complex piece. There was nothing overtly flirtatious about her behaviour, not now and not during the previous handful of rehearsals they had over the past two days. Both her and Mr Uchiha were always extremely professional, never getting too close or touching each other inappropriately. Though Sakura had to agree with Ino: Mei Terumi was so incredibly attractive that it probably wouldn't even take that much flirting to wrap any guy around her finger. But weirdly enough Sakura wasn't bothered so much by the idea of her conductor and the singer being intimate with each other. Sure, Maestro Uchiha was a god to her and she revered him as such, but never in her wildest dreams would she dare to think of herself as an object of his romantic or sexual desires. She was used to competing with others for his professional attention, but the thought of competing with women like Mei Terumi for his romantic attention had never crossed her mind, because Sakura believed him to be very much out of her league. And since intimacy wasn't something she aimed for or even associated with her relationship with Mr Uchiha, her feeling of unease didn't stem from romantic jealousy.

Mei Terumi was more of a reminder of Sakura's lack of experience. The singer was basically oozing confidence and maturity with her flirtatious smiles, the way she held herself around big shot conductors like Madara Uchiha, and the way she knew exactly what to wear to accentuate her killer curves. In comparison to her, the young cellist felt all kinds of inadequate with her frilly little dresses and the fact that she didn't even know that doing it meant having sex.

Mei Terumi and everything she embodied made Sakura feel too young, too inexperienced, as if she could never be up to par with the grown-ups if she kept sticking to her little girl persona. And she desperately wanted to prove to her maestro that there was more to her than floral dresses and Hello Kitty stuffed toys.

Having made up her mind, the young cellist turned to her blonde friend.

"Ino, do you think I could borrow one of your dresses tomorrow?"

* * *

Madara nearly spat out his drink when he saw the outfit his principal cellist chose for the afterparty.

He was always the last to arrive at such events, and as soon he entered the lounge his eyes automatically scanned the crowd for a mop of pink hair. Sure enough, he found her, but unlike most times when he set his eyes on her, he didn't like what he was seeing.

She was dressed in a little black neckholder dress that hugged her petite figure and exposed just the right amount of cleavage to be alluring without coming across as slutty. Madara watched her nervously run her fingers through her long silky hair which was pulled into a tight high ponytail, and when her lips closed around the straw in her drink he noticed they were painted a provocative burgundy. His eyes travelled down the shape of her slender legs and landed on the dark red stilettos she was very obviously wearing for the first time, judging by the way she kept awkwardly twirling her foot on the heel of her shoe.

There was absolutely nothing slutty or inappropriate about her outfit. In fact, this was the way most of his female musicians dressed for events like these, and usually he couldn't care less.

But little Ms Haruno once again proved to be the exception to each and every one of his rules.

Because even though he wouldn't bat an eye whenever he saw Yamanaka, Sabakuno or Hyuuga in such outfits, because they were all older, seeing his protégé pretend to be someone she's not dressed up in something so wildly unlike her made his hand tingle with the need to spank some sense into her.

As if she could sense his glare, the pink-haired cellist turned her head and let her eyes rest on him. For a second, Madara could have sworn she looked like a child who got caught with her hands in the cookie jar. He raised his hand and beckoned her to him. Like the good little girl that she was, she immediately left everything and everyone behind and made her way to him.

"Mr Uchiha, I'm glad you could – "

"What are you wearing?"

Madara watched as her hands immediately flew to the hem of her dress in an attempt to pull it down and cover a bit more skin she was suddenly and very obviously self-conscious about.

"You don't like it?" she asked nervously as she looked up at him with huge, doubtful eyes.

"I think you already knew that I wouldn't like it when you asked Ms Sabakuno to lend it to you. Or was it Ms Yamanaka?"

"But Sir, my outfit doesn't violate the dress code, I even asked Deidara. Plus, Ino said she wore that dress a hundred times and nobody ever said it was inappropriate."

"Do you feel comfortable in it, Ms Haruno?"

She lowered her gaze in defeat and instead absent-mindedly let it rest on his tie as she shook her head.

"Then why are you wearing it?"

Madara watched his young protégé shrug her shoulders and turn her head as a blush crept up her face. With a tiny, shy voice she added, "I just wanted to show everybody that I'm not just some young inexperienced rookie. That I can hang with the big kids, you know?"

"Wearing clothes you're clearly uncomfortable in isn't going to help with that. If you want to show them that you're someone worthy of respect, you need to do it with merit and not by pretending to be someone you're not. Now I'm going to take you back to your hotel room and you're going to change, is that clear?"

Madara's hand found the small of her back as he guided her to the lounge's exit.

"Sir, is that really necessary? I mean sure, the shoes hurt, but I was only going to stay for another hour or so anyway. I can make that without changing."

When they exited the building, the brisk night air made the young cellist shiver, so Madara wordlessly took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders before hailing a taxi. As he opened the door for her and helped her get in, he fixed her with another glare and said, "The hotel is only a five minute ride away from here, so that should be enough time for you to think about why I'm disappointed in you. We'll talk about this when we're in your room, so I'll expect an answer from you, young lady."

He closed the door and got into the taxi on the other side. It was a tense five minutes, though probably more so for the pink-haired musician than for Madara. He could practically hear the wheels turning inside her head as he silently let her mull over his accusation. But he believed that giving her the time and opportunity to self-reflect was going to prove a valuable lesson for her. Not least because Madara knew she was always desperate to fix the mistakes he pointed out.

After arriving at their hotel, the conductor helped Sakura out of the car and told her to go ahead so he could pay the driver. Leaning closer to the man's front seat window, he heard him say, "You have a lovely daughter, Sir. With a firm daddy such as yourself, I'm sure she'll turn out just fine, so don't be too harsh on her. I'm a father too, you know, and I'm very proud of my little princess."

Great. The universe was clearly torturing him. Madara knew he had to keep his lewd fantasies regarding his pretty little protégé in check, and yet some greater force deemed it necessary to dangle them in front of him every chance it got.

But he couldn't give in.

He really shouldn't.

"What were you and the driver talking about?" Madara heard a shy voice next to him ask.

As they entered the hotel's lobby, the maestro steeled his resolve to not overstep any lines while they were alone in her room. He reminded himself this was purely for the image of the orchestra. He was just going to make sure that his protégé wouldn't embarrass herself and his ensemble by wearing clothes unfit for such a young woman. Right, there was nothing more to it.

Nothing inappropriate was going to happen.

Getting into the lift, he pressed the button that would lead them to her room as she asked again, "Sir, what did the driver have to say?"

"You're a nosey little one, aren't you? If you really must know, he didn't say anything that would concern you."

Madara turned his head to face her and was met with the same look of absolute reverence and adoration she always had reserved only for him. In that moment, he knew he just lost the most decisive battle of his life.

And he couldn't care less.

With a devilish grin tugging on the corner of his lips, he leaned a bit closer to her and whispered, "At least it doesn't concern you … _yet_."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

His grin widened at the sight of her adorably confused face before he exited the lift and headed for her room. The driver did say something that concerned Sakura, but Madara meant what he said – it didn't concern her yet. Because she sure as hell was his little princess and he sure as hell would be the firm daddy doling out spankings left right and centre – she just didn't know it yet. Now that he threw caution to the wind and decided to give into his desires, Madara couldn't wait to implement some changes in their relationship: The maestro would slowly and subtly introduce her to some of the things he had been craving to do to her since the day he met the little cellist, and if she responded to them willingly Madara would make her his for good. Though judging by the way she was already staring up at him with hearts in her eyes and a look that said _please love me, daddy_, Madara was sure she would jump at the chance of being nurtured and disciplined by him in more ways than a professional one.

Closing the door to her hotel room, Madara had to force down his devious grin and instead pretend to be angry. He turned around and fixed her with a glare. "Go into the bathroom, remove all of that make-up and change into something more comfortable."

"Yes, Sir," she mumbled with a pout before turning on her heel and disappearing into the bathroom.

When she got out, Madara had to stifle a groan at the sight of her new outfit: She was wearing pastel pink flannel pyjama bottoms with unicorns on them and a snug white shirt with a picture of her instrument and the words _Cello:_ _Everyone Else Is Accompaniment_ below it. She couldn't possibly be any cuter if she tried.

Madara motioned her to sit on the bed while he crossed his arms in front of his chest and positioned himself in front of her in his most authentic imitation of an angry dad posture.

"Now, Ms Haruno, can you tell me why I'm disappointed in you?"

Tucking her chin into her chest, Sakura mumbled something incoherent in that tiny unsure voice she always used whenever she thought she did something wrong.

"Speak up, little one, I can't hear you."

"Because I pretended to be someone I'm not?"

"And why do you think that upset me?"

She started chewing on her bottom lip which drove Madara absolutely mad for 5 hellishly long seconds before answering, "Because you told me once already that I shouldn't worry about my age or how experienced I seem to others, and that you picked me because I'm so young and that I should be proud of it and not try to hide it, but I did that anyway and now you're mad at me." The pinkette was now nervously tugging on the ends the blanket she was sitting on while looking up at him with a pleading look in her eyes, silently begging him to forgive her.

Madara knew he was being cold when he didn't answer immediately, instead fixing his glare on her for a few more seconds and allowing himself to enjoy her display of absolute submissiveness.

"Please, Sir, I can't stand the thought of you being disappointed in me. Please, just tell me what I can do to make it up to you. I'll follow all of your rules. I'll be good, Sir, I promise."

Gods have mercy on him, she was the perfect little girl. All submissive, obedient, and desperate to please him. And the best thing was, she wasn't even faking her little persona. She didn't just wear frilly dresses or unicorn pyjama bottoms to impress someone, she didn't just braid her hair into pigtails because she wanted to look younger, she didn't just pretend to constantly crave his guidance and approval because she thought that's what turned him on – she just really was genuinely _little_.

And also in desperate need of some punishment.

"It seems like you're no longer able to decide which clothes are appropriate for your age. In order to prevent you from embarrassing yourself and our entire orchestra, I will decide what you wear to formal events. We start right now, I'll find something more suitable for tonight's party. You're going to change and we're going to go back, so you can prove to whomever you want to prove that neither your age nor your clothes define how good and how experienced a musician you are."

Madara opened her closet where she had hung a couple of dresses, skirts, and blouses and started going through her clothes when he heard her protest behind him.

"But Sir, is that really necessary? It was a one-time thing, I promise it won't happen again."

He handed her a simple white blouse and a floral skirt he had often seen her wear and sternly added, "I'm giving you the opportunity to comply with my rules willingly. If you keep misbehaving and disobeying me, I can always just spank some sense into you."

Judging by her scared wide eyes and the deep blush spreading across her cheeks, that threat was enough to get her moving. With a nervous little _Yes, Sir_, Sakura disappeared into the bathroom to change into her new outfit. When she got out, he beckoned her to get closer to where he was leaning against a desk.

"Now isn't that more comfortable?"

Madara watched his pretty little protégé twirl in front of a mirror before she nodded her head in confirmation. "This is actually one of my favourite skirts. Though I rarely wear it to formal events."

"Why is that?"

"Well … it's silly, but … I rarely wear skirts and dresses without thigh high socks, because I just think it looks so cute."

Oh, he noticed.

"And even though I admittedly don't have the fanciest fashion sense, even I know you don't wear thigh high socks to an after party. So I usually just choose an outfit where I wouldn't have worn socks anyway. Even though I've got the prettiest and cutest socks ever that just go perfectly with this skirt."

Madara noticed the way her eyes started to sparkle as soon as she got out of the bathroom. She obviously felt much more comfortable now, and she even seemed to enjoy playing dress-up for him. So he decided he would indulge her.

"Well if you really think that outfit is incomplete without your socks, why don't you put them on and show me?"

"Really?" Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, and she immediately dashed to her suitcase where she rummaged around in search of her socks. Taking a seat on the bed, she quickly rolled them over each leg, stepped in front of the mirror to Madara's left and twirled around all happy and cute. Then she turned towards him and extended her left leg to show him her socks. "See, they've got cute little kitty faces on the upper part here, and they've even got cat ears sticking out of the hem, and I use them to pull up the socks."

"That's adorable, little one."

She blushed and shyly bit her bottom lip before whispering a tiny _Thank you, Sir._

"There's only one problem. You got changed so quickly that you look all dishevelled now. Your blouse isn't neatly tucked into your skirt and your socks aren't pulled up to the same height. I can't let you go to a fancy afterparty like this, now, can I? Come here, princess," he spread his legs and gently pulled her closer to him, so she was now standing between them, "let me fix this for you."

While Madara was busy fixing her outfit – smoothing out wrinkles, tucking in her blouse, neatly rolling up her sleeves, and taking his sweet time doing it – Sakura was busy trying to stand still and not sway back and forth from the constant pushing and pulling. "Little one, you'll need to stop fidgeting if you want me to fix your outfit. Hold on to me, so you can keep still."

Gingerly, his little protégé placed her tiny little hands on his shoulders and used them to push back against his pulling and prodding.

"Sir, is this an outfit you would deem appropriate for me to wear to formal events?"

"Absolutely. Why?"

"Good. Because in that case, I don't think I have a problem with you choosing my outfits from now on. I'm glad you seem to know what I like."

Madara was met with a shy sincere smile from the pink-haired girl standing between his legs, and he was once again reminded of the fact of how adorably innocent she was, because no other woman – or even girl for that matter – would say _I'm glad you seem to know what I like_ without being aware of the sexual innuendo of such a statement. But Sakura was so incredibly pure and chaste that Madara would bet his left testicle that she could suck on a popsicle in a room full of men and still be surprised that every single one of them was sporting a giant hard-on.

He took in her appearance and noted that the only thing still in need of fixing were her socks, which he purposefully saved for last. Now was the time to see if she would stop him from really overstepping the mark. Though, granted, fixing one of his musician's outfit in such an intimate manner was already inappropriate, Madara still would have found a way to somehow talk his way out of it and make it seem like a halfway reasonable thing to do for an image-conscious conductor. But putting his hands underneath her skirt and pretending to pull up her socks under the thinly veiled guise of fixing her outfit – that was a completely different kettle of fish altogether.

"Are you going to do my socks, too, Sir?"

When Madara looked into her face, he immediately had an answer to his question of whether or not she would allow him to go this far. Because there was no insecurity or hesitance in her eyes, there wasn't even the tell-tale blush or the flirtatious smile of someone who understood the intimacy of a man about to put his hands on a woman's bare upper thigh. She looked at him expectantly as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a conductor to pull up the thigh high socks of his musician beneath her skirt.

And so that was exactly what he did.

"Of course, little one. We want your two little kitties to be at eye level with each other, don't we?"

That remark got him the cutest little giggle as Madara hooked his fingers into the hem of her left sock and slowly pulled it up her slender thigh.

"Sir, you can't forget to put the faces in the middle. It will look weird if the two kitties don't face the same direction."

"You're right, princess. We don't want somebody thinking your two kittens aren't getting along with each other, now, do we?"

He could hear another giggle as he enveloped her left thigh with both his hands and rotated the sock so that the kitten face was in the middle. He allowed his thumb to slowly brush the back of her thigh before he willed both his hands to let go of her. Madara gave the two cat ears another tug and turned his attention to her right leg.

Again, he hooked his fingers into the hem of her sock and very slowly pulled it up, until it was the same height as the left one. Then he put his hand on the back of her knee and let it wander upwards to smooth out any wrinkles until his hand almost touched her ass. Using both hands again, he enveloped her upper thigh and gave the sock a few twists until the kitten face was in the middle. While his right hand was busy fixing the cat ears, Madara's left hand was stroking up and down her inner thigh and came dangerously close to her panty line. He allowed himself to enjoy the feel of her soft flesh beneath his fingers for a few more seconds before lowering his hands to the slightly more respectable area of her knee caps.

"All done now."

A shaky breath escaped her lips before she shot him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Sir. But I can't see anything. The skirt is too long, it's covering the kitties."

"Pull it up, then."

"Oh… right, of course." Sakura shot him a bashful look, bit her lip, and then grabbed the hem of her skirt to pull it up a bit.

"See how pretty your legs look?" Madara asked while stroking the back of her thighs beneath her skirt.

"Mhm. I love these socks, they make me feel so pretty. I'm glad you made me change, Sir, I feel so much more comfortable now."

"I'm glad you didn't make a fuss. See how easy everything can be when you're a good girl who listens and does as she's told."

"Um, Sir … about that." Madara watched the young cellist start nervously playing with the end of his tie. While she was lost in thought, he took the opportunity to slowly move his hands upwards until his fingers were barely brushing the underside of her cheeks.

"Were you, um … were you really going to – I mean, if I had put up a fight, would you really have … you know?"

When she raised her head to peek up at him, Madara was met with the usual combination of a bashful look, a tell-tale blush and her signature circuit-frying lip bite. But she wasn't the only one capable of rattling the other, he thought. After all, his hands were still very much beneath her skirt all but groping her ass.

"Would I have done … what, Sakura?" he prompted teasingly while giving the back of her thighs a firm squeeze.

She closed her eyes for a second and sighed quietly, before looking at him again.

"You know, Sir. Would you … Would you have," she leaned in closer and whispered, "sp-spanked me?"

"Of course, I would have."

Her blush turned an even deeper shade of red, and Madara could hear her breath quickening. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was intrigued by the thought of his hands leaving bright red imprints on her ass.

"Don't worry, little one, I'm not going to spank you now for what you did tonight, because we didn't set any rules for that and you didn't know that punishment was even involved. But you do know now, so I suggest you try your best to be a really good little girl from now on."

She eagerly nodded her head and added a nervous little _Yes, Sir _before she went back to playing with the end of his tie.

"But um, when you," Madara watched her tongue dart out to wet her lips, "spank me … what does that feel like? Does it hurt?"

"Now why would you want to know that? As long as you don't do anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about on that front."

"I just don't think that I can sleep tonight knowing that there's a possibility of me getting punished and I don't even know what that form of punishment looks or feels like."

Oh, she was intrigued alright. Madara couldn't shake the feeling that he just broke a dam. For both of them.

"Well, I wouldn't want my protégé to lose sleep over anything."

He grabbed the back side of her skirt, pulled it up above her ass and gave her right cheek a sound smack.

And Gods have mercy on him, in that exact moment he heard the most delicious moan he ever elicited from a woman. If Madara hadn't already thought that this innocent young cellist was the perfect little girl for him to nurture and to discipline, hearing her moan after being spanked for the first time would have given him the last proof he needed to know that she craved his dominance as much as he craved her submissiveness.

"This is what a spanking feels like. A very, very nice spanking, mind you. It's going to hurt a lot more when I'm angry with you."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." She nodded her head in understanding while rubbing soothing circles on her backside.

Madara was enjoying this way too much, so he had to bring this to an end soon before he completely lost control of his senses. If he were to see her bite her lip one more time, Madara swore his dick would explode.

"Now that we've cleared up a few things, I suggest you return to the party. There are a lot of people there eager to meet you. And remember," he grabbed her chin between his fingers and leaned closer, "be a good little girl for me."

Madara watched her blush deepen as she stared into his eyes with a dreamy look and moaned a tiny little _Yes, Sir._

After she had gathered her things and grabbed her purse, they both left her hotel room. Sakura headed towards the lift when she noticed Madara wasn't following.

"Aren't you coming, too?"

"You go ahead, I'll join you in a bit. I just need to take care of something first."

_My rock hard dick._

The conductor watched his protégé step into the lift and wave goodbye. "Ok then, see you in a bit, Mr Uchiha. And um … thanks." Sakura shot him a bashful smile before the doors closed.

Madara released a sigh of relief before focusing his gaze on his hard-on.

"You're going to both hate me and love me for what I did tonight."


End file.
